TURKEY TROUBLES
Hi. I'm a turkey. My name is NOT
Tom, as so many call me. Tom is my brother. I'm
the smart one. My name is Alfred.

You know, it was bad enough
when those creatures with the long, black hair
started chasing us. They have feathers, too; so
you'd think they'd know better than to go around
picking on other flocks. But, then, they invited
their friends from overseas to come after us,
too.
I'm talking about those friends
shipped in on the big hollow log. The ones
wearing those strange, brown leaves on their
heads.

They go around saying things --
something about May and flour. Maybe they eat us
most of the year, then give us a break and eat
flour in May. Who knows!

Anyway, those hairy, feathered
creatures did a lot to help the hollow log
sailors. Sure, the feathered ones taught them how
to hunt us, but they also taught them how to
plant corn.

I like corn. It was a good
thing the hollow log creatures did, too. They
were dying off fast until the feathered ones
showed them a thing or two about living here.
I like the long-haired,
feathered ones. They eat a lot of corn and toss
sticks around. Here, I'll show you:
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