When I was a young turkey, new to the coop, my big
brother Tom took me out on the stoop, then he sat
me down, and he spoke real slow, and he told me
there was something that I had to know. His look
and his tone I will always remember, when he told
me of the horrors of.... Black November. 

"Come around August, now listen to me, each day 
you'll get six meals instead of just three, and 
soon you'll be thick, where once you were thin, 
and you'll grow a big rubbery thing under your 
chin.

And then one morning, when you're warm in your
bed, in will burst the farmer's wife, and hack
off your head, Then she'll pluck out all your
feathers so you're bald 'n pink, and scoop out
all your insides and leave ya lyin' in the sink.
And then comes the worst part", he said not
bluffing, "She'll spread your cheeks and pack
your rear with stuffing". 

Well, the rest of his
words were too grim to repeat, and as I sat on the
stoop like a winged piece of meat, I decided on
the spot that to avoid being cooked, I'd have to
lay low and remain overlooked. I began a new diet
of nuts and granola, high-roughage salads, juice
and diet cola. 

And as they ate pastries,
chocolates and crepes, I stayed in my room doing
my fitness tapes. I maintained my weight of two
pounds and a half, and tried not to notice when
the bigger birds laughed. But 'twas I who was
laughing, under my breath, as they chomped and
they chewed, ever closer to death. 

And sure enough
when Black November rolled around, I was the last
turkey left in the entire compound. So now I'm a
pet in the farmer's wife's lap. I haven't a
worry, so I eat and I nap. She held me today,
while sewing and humming, and smiled at me and
said..... "Christmas is coming..."