With Rich holding Tom Turkey’s head and Don stroking his turkey to keep it calm, I aimed cautiously with the ice pick and stopped for a moment. It was the moment of truth, so we had a little pinch to celebrate another family reunion.

With one eye closed, as I saw two turkey heads, I aimed carefully again, winked at Don to assure him of my aim, I planted the ice pick with a side and the other side of Rich’s hand. Her face was flushed with blood, which spurted from her hand, all over her jumpsuit and Don’s hair. Rich jumped up and down, waving his hand, spilling blood all over the place. The turkey remained upside down, wings flapping and feathers flying. I watched the ice pick float through the air and finally land. I calmly approached, picked it up and announced that I was ready to try again.

Don’t stop stroking his turkey when his face has been sprayed and he has jumped back and knocked the turkey off the hook. He hit the ground, struggled for a while, pulled out the string, tied his legs together, and started to run. Faster than I thought a turkey could run.

The yard was covered in smoke from the fire and because the water was boiling there was a heavy fog… a lot of fog. It covered the back yard.

Rich and Don took after the turkey. I walked over to the house to get some bandages. I looked at Rich when he shouted, “Hurry up.”

I saw the neighbor peeking over the fence, then hesitated when a fleeting thought said, “Rich, fine, do it the old fashioned way.” I dug under the garage bench and pulled out my old scout ax.
“I’m coming, we’ll have it,” I shouted as I joined in the chase.

The neighbor’s eyes were wide as we passed him on the second or third round. I realized he had seen three men, dressed in white, with black hoods, two of them covered in blood with a third chasing them with an ax in his hand. The head of a turkey, also covered with a hood, on its head, although unbalanced, sometimes came out of the fog, disappeared, only to reappear.

He must have wondered. Some kind of worship? a clan of witches? An assassination gone wrong? He ran back to his house.

It was then that the police arrived for the first time.

After explanations and a bandage, we grabbed the turkey and used the time-honored method to send it. We dipped it in boiling water, plucked the feathers and cleaned it up.

The chapter says that the turkey should then be rinsed in cold water. We left our bloody clothes in the shed and took him into the house to rinse him with cold water. It was too big for the sink.

Don said, “I’ll take care of it.” Trying to keep his clothes clean, he stripped down to rinse it off in the shower.
It was then that the police arrived the second time around.

The fresh turkey is very tasty, but since then we have been buying frozen.