From the new Centre of the Psyclone blog
The Turkeys of England have narrowly rejected a motion that promised to replace old-fashioned Christmas carnage with a bright, death-free 21st century future, due to strong opposition from traditional wings of the shed.
‘I’m not a self-hating turkey,’ said a retired bird from Ipswich and member of the Cage of Lay-it-ere, ‘but my mother taught me to know my place. We were told as eggs we could do anything we liked – accountant, racing driver, you name it – as long as we accepted that, one day, we would end up lying on our backs, feet behind our ears with a carrot up our arse, waiting for Gas Mark 5. I truly believe that if God had meant us to fly, he wouldn’t have invented basting, sprouts, cranberry sauce or the big glass oven shelf.’
Senior flock leaders voted overwhelmingly in favour of plans to replace the annual ritual of humiliation and carnage with a more vegetarian rite, but were narrowly beaten by representatives of the rank-and-filed beaks. Some opposing the idea believed it to be their ordained role in life to be ceremonially slaughtered and trussed up, while others felt the decision could not be made without consulting all poultry currently destined for the dining table, including turkeys within the fold who lived way, way outside the fold.
‘As English Turkeys we clearly can’t fly in the face of Italian chickens and Greek geese, or those very important birds, whatever they’re called, from Africa, or they might come over here and humiliate us by demanding to be eaten,’ gobbled an old black-feathered Turkey wearing a festive Italian chicken costume to emphasise how ridiculous all these foreign views might be.
However, the non-Turkey world has reinforced its stance that turkeys are ripe for the eating. ‘They’re just sitting ducks as far as I’m concerned’ said a metropole. ‘And no, I can’t pretend to have tried to understand their point of view or seen with my own eyes what they’re on about by visiting one of their Norfolk sheds. Not even the big pointy one in the middle of Norwich’