Gold Feather

Gold Feather

Beak the evil gobbler was feeling good. He'd been consuming goblets of wild turkey most of the day and dreaming of large breasts and silky feathers. In particular the breasts of the sexiest hen in the county, Turkey Galore. Sure, she was artificially enhanced and had probably been on a steady diet of chemically altered feed since she was a chick, but the result was definitely worth it. Beak thought of clucking every time he saw her.

Hatching an evil plan, Beak decided he would have her. He gathered his feathered friends and they incubated the operation to steal the Gold Feather, and Turkey Galore was sure to follow.

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Le Flock, the fanciest restaurant in town, was packed as it was the Friday after Thanksgiving and all had gathered in celebration. Tom Gobb sat at a corner table with his latest fling, Ivana Cluckalot. She was tender, juicy, and basted in all the right places. Ivana was also a Faberge egg addict and Tom was tired of her being on his gravy train while she drained him of his nest egg.

She was fine feathered though and the stuffing was fine as well. Tom's thoughts were cut short as an axe flew just past his head and stuck into the post behind him, inches from his neck. Turning towards his attempted assassins, Tom gobbled at Ivana, "Get the flock out of here."

Dr. Comb and a couple of other turkeys came closer to Tom. Equipped with axes and in one case an electric carving knife, they looked ready to rumble. Tom pulled a meat thermometer from his side, "Looks like I'm done boys," he said in an unconcerned voice.

Feathers started to fly like in a barnyard pillow fight. In minutes Dr. Comb and his gang were tarred and feathered and enough pin feathers lay on the floor to make a king size bed.

Tom looked at a nearby waiter who looked on with an open beak. "Sorry about the mess," Tom said, as he tossed a wattle of coins, "This should cover it."

"Who are you?" the obviously new waiter gobbled.

"Names Gobb, Tom, Gobb," stated Tom as a Jingle Bells ring tone emitted from under his beard. The waiter looked quizzical. "Well, it is the day after Thanksgiving," Tom gobbled, as he answered his phone.

"Someone has stolen the Gold Feather," stated a mechanical voice.

Tom closed his phone and looked at the waiter, "Looks like I need that Pumpkin Pie to go," he said, as he went to help Ivana with her wrap.

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Tom arrived at the crime scene, unsurprised by the flock gathered around. Ametures thought Tom, while out loud clucking, "Clear the area please." Tom wandered through the carcasses and found something interesting. Picking it up he discovered it was the large part of a broken wish bone.

"Looks like I get my wish," he gobbled

"Who was it Tom?" asked a detective.

Tom looked at him and answered with a grin, "All these leftovers, improperly refrigerated, salmonella eminent?" Tom sniffed the air, "and I smell the remnants of a triptophan gas bomb, this is obviously the work of the Beak."

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Meanwhile, at Beaks hideout, Turkey Galore stood stunned. "You stupid cluck, you honestly think that I will be your girl for a silly feather?" she gobbled.

"You'll be mine or you'll end up like them!" exclaimed Beak pointing at rows of cages stuffed full of turkeys. "My little butterballs suffer to the delight of millions, and you, my big breasted love, will be my prize."

"I will be your nothing you sick beaked freak!" Turkey Galore cried.

"Maybe a few days stuffed in a cage will change your mind," Beak gobbled.

A sultry gobble came from the coop entrance, "You can have me for a gold feather," Ivana Cluckalot said as she entered.

Beak turned and saw such a magnificent turkey he got something stuck in his craw. "You'll do fine." he squawked, "butterballs indeed." He pointed at Golore, "to a cage with her, and make it snug."

"Now, where were we my fine feathered fauline?" he clucked.

"You were getting ready to show me the Gold Feather," Ivana said sweetly.

"Ah, yes of course," Beak said, "Bring me the Gold Feather!"

A large turkey sauntered over and whispered to Beak. "In Honeysuckle!" yelled Beak, the turkey whispered some more, "New York City!" squawked Beak.

"Oh, New York City," squealed Ivana, "take me there! Tiffanies is getting a big shipment of new Faberge Eggs in for their Day After Thanksgiving Day Sale."

"My dear, I would take you anywhere," said Beak, truly smitten, "I would not mark your price by the pound, but rather by the ounce."

"To the Honeysuckle!" Beak squawked, "and then Tiffanies!"

Ivana ruffled Beaks feathers and led the way out of the coop as Beak followed after.

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Tom arrived at the infamous Turkey Farm of Beak and was appalled at the conditions. In the midst of it all he spotted his old flame, Turkey Galore. After disabling the guards and freeing the lovely, very appreciative Miss Galore, she told him all she knew of the missing gold feather and he set out for New York City.

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Ivana looked disgusted, "Now can you tell me why we are in the freezer section of an, ugh, supermarket?"

"Behold," Beak pointed a wing tip at a frozen solid turkey, "The Honeysuckle."

Ivana somehow wrinkled her beak, "You must be kidding me?" she gobbled.

"No, my juicy one," Beak said, "there is more than giblets and a neck bone in there, we just need to defrost it."

"Fine then, on to Tiffanies while we wait," Ivana continued, "I have to be there for the opening, I must have all the newly released special issues."

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Tom couldn't believe his good fortune. He arrived in New York City and met with local authorities, and they pointed him in the direction of a narc who had mentioned such a place in his report. He set off to meet with this contact when right before his eyes who should go by but Beak in a large refrigerated truck. Tom set out in hot pursuit of his nemesis.

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The traffic was unbelievable as holiday shoppers formed a record breaking bottleneck. After fighting through traffic, being dropped off a block away, and then dredging through streams of shoppers with packages and dragging along chicks, they finally arrived. Ivana immediately jumped into a big pile of socialites fighting over eggs, claws out and tearing into would be out bidders.

Beak looked distressed at the events unfolding around him. No hen is worth all this, he decided as he took flight towards the nearest exit.

Cradling the Honeysuckle, he burst out the doors only to run into Tom Gobb, his arch rival. "Beak," gobbled Tom, "return the Gold Feather, I have seen enough of your evil deeds to put you away 'till the cows come home."

Beak took off in a flurry of feathers, the Huneysuckle clutched firmly under a wing, with Tom following close after. The chase was on and Beak turned into a back alley filled with the remnants of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. Commandeering the closest vehicle he could find, Beak took to the sky in Santa's Sleigh evading Tom's grasp in an apparent clean get away.

Tom searched the area and grabbed onto the first thing he could think of and set off, hot on the tail feathers of the Beak. Up he rose after releasing his transportation. What a sight it must be he thought, a giant purple dinosaur balloon in pursuit of a turkey driving Santa's Sleigh.

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Landing on the island of Dr. Comb, Beak was surprised to see Tom fast approaching. Flapping over to the sleigh, it suddenly took to the sky, leaving Beak stranded. "Darn my parents for being domesticated, or I could just fly off this island," gobbled Beak.

Tom retrieved from his plumage his secret turkey call before letting go of his transportation and then glided to a landing right on top of Beak where he proceeded to beat the stuffing out of him. "Not, as graceful as I would have liked," Tom said, "but still effective."

Suddenly a boom sounded and smoke filled the air. "Two with one shot," said a strangely dressed man, as he adjusted his tall black hat adorned with a buckle, "Prudence, I found supper!" he continued after finding a third frozen turkey, "Tell Squanto to bring all his friends, we have enough for a feast!" And thus, the first Thanksgiving was born.