The Turkey?

One Thanksgiving, brother and sister, Jack and Lulu were in the kitchen, cooking with their mother and Aunt while the rest of the family was laughing and cheering in front of the TV.

Their mother instructed them to carry the large, freshly cooked turkey to the dining room table. They did so, Jack carrying it in his six-year-old arms, Lulu skipping behind him and making sure he placed it exactly in the middle. She was a very exact little person.

As they were about to leave, a strange squishing sound caught their attention and they whipped back around. The baked turkey had wiggled itself up on its two yummy legs and started toward the door.

"Stop!" Yelled out Lulu.

"Run, run as fast as you can. You can't catch me, I'm the gingerbread man," Came a surprisingly deep voice for a turkey without a head.

The siblings looked at each other than back at the turkey, than back at each other than back at the turkey. The turkey had stopped at the door way and turned back toward them, asking, "What?" It made a movement like if it did have a head it would be looking down at itself. "Well, turkey, but whatever."

Jack and Lulu charged at the bird, who freaked out and slipped from the grease on its feet. Lulu was able to wrap her small hand around it and she and Jack were able to lift it back onto the platter, struggling as it twisted in their grasp.

Moments after they had gotten the turkey back where it was supposed to be, their mom and aunt came through the door, their hands stacked with plates and platters of food. They placed them on the table and smiled at the children. When the adults left the room, the turkey jumped up once again and waddled across the table.

When it reached the glass bowl of mashed potatoes, it flapped one of it little wings and scooped up a bunch of it, flinging it at the children who were again attempting to stop the turkey from running away. The mashed potato glob landed in Lulu's blond pigtails. Lulu froze as it slowly ran down her face, an expression of anger on her features. She looked like a mad kitten.

She stormed her little feet to the table and grabbed a handful of cranberry sauce. She tossed it at the turkey, who was scurrying across the hardwood floor toward the door. It hit the giant, featherless bird right in the back, knocking it over.

Jack and Lulu joined each other in grabbing handfuls of random food off the table, chucking them at the turkey. Most of the food was landing on the floor and walls, and the ones that did hit the turkey were just lucky shots.

The turkey was using its scrawny wings to pull itself toward the exit, regretting trying to run away in front of these ruthless children.

A gasp came from the door the turkey was trying to get out, and the children looked to see their family standing there, staring at the ruined room.

"What have you done?" Their mother screeched. She grabbed her children by their arms and dragged them own the hall to their rooms, the family trying to clean the dinning room. All they way to the children's doors they tried to explain to their mother that it was the turkey's fault.

"The turkey is dead, and I will not hear any more of your silly excuses." She pushed them in and slammed the door. The mother went to help clean, only to find they turkey missing. "Anyone know where the turkey is?" She asked. A chorus of no's went around.

In fact, the turkey was happily running down the sidewalk outside. Well, happily until one of the neighbors dogs spotted him and attacked, gobbling the poor bird whole.