Dinner Party

“Hey, there, Old Tom. Missus told me I should mosey on over and invite you for dinner.”

“Special occasion, is it? Lemme see. Not your anniversary, that was a few months back. Birthday, perhaps?”

“Naw, it’s a big feast. You’re to be our distinguished guest.”

“Well, not to preen my own feathers but I’m glad someone around here has noticed what a stand-up gobbler I am. Always looking after the poults in the morning so the wife can get some extra sleep.Then I’m out all day, eating up all the ticks so you and the Missus and little Johnny can safely play in the yard and walk the trails around the property. Yes, siree, sure am glad y’all noticed how hard I work around here. Distinguished guest, you say? I’m honored, sir.”

“Well…”

“I suppose I should prepare a speech, yes?”

“It’s not that kind of –“

“What do you think of this? Just, off the top of my gobbler: My fellow Americans, er, I mean. My beloved benefactors. It is with great pleasure that I stand before you and share in this feast. I may be a humble turkey, but as a heritage breed that has been on the fast track to extinction –“

“You’re a heritage breed? That’s not what the supply store told me!”

“Oh, yes. Both me and the wife. And we're working hard to raise up another generation of endangered gobblers, y’know. So appreciative to have a safe, secure farm to raise the young ones on.”

“Oh, yes. Of course. Anyway, meal is at noon tomorrow. I should, um, get going. See you in the morning.”

“Aaaaand off he goes. There you go, Stan. For all your crowing, I proved you wrong. All it takes is a little guilt and the ax is put away for another year.”