How To Cook a Demon Turkey in 0 or fewer steps!

Hello Dear Reader,

If you are new to my stories, you can start with the first time I tried to cook a zombie turkey or my adventures with the ninja turkeys. Now on with the story!

Ok, so I found an old cookbook at a flea market. I flipped through the book finding cool recipes for Thanksgiving! This would be the best Thanksgiving yet, no car chases from my favorite restaurant, no aliens, no bigfoot, and no, I mean no, zombie turkeys. This is a true story of how I learned to cook from an antique cookbook. I promise this is a true story!

I shooed everyone out of the house so that I could begin the most magnificent Thanksgiving feast since the pilgrims ordered pizza for the natives, and they had an all-night kegger. Ok, so I didn’t pay attention in history class, and I’m sure that was from a B movie. But still, I’m sure they had beer and pizza!

The first recipe was for cranberry sauce. Finally, I may now know the secret to the infamous can-shaped cranberry sauce! As I read the book, I became slightly annoyed that I might not have the right ingredients. It called for cranberries (check), sugar (check), and a few other things (check). But it needed the blood of my nemesis.

The blood of my nemesis? Chores were the bane of my existence, so that could be considered my nemesis. I did cut myself vacuuming that morning (long story). So, I scraped some of the blood from the bag and put it in the cranberry sauce. It must be for the taste.

Next was the stuffing. Butter (check), bread (check), and other stuff (check) which we had, but it needed wool of bat. I wasn’t sure what that was. We did have a wool blanket with a bat on it for Halloween. It was still on the couch. So I snipped a few tassels and threw it. Such an unusual ingredient must be to bind it all together. Bread isn’t very sturdy.

The gravy was next. Milk (check), flour (check), other stuff (check), and the souls of my enemies, I was fresh out of souls. I did play a mean game of Halo that morning. The aliens didn’t stand a chance. I was fierce and slaughtered them all as an elite Spartan! (Easy mode, of course). So I let the Halo disc soak in the gravy. Souls of my enemies!

Next was the turkey. I had it chained on the counter — no need to have a repeat with the zombie turkey. I had the doors locked and my fierce dog ready to defend the house from the ninja turkeys! I hadn’t seen Bigfoot and the aliens for a while, so I wasn’t worried about them. Time to cook the turkey!

According to the cookbook, the turkey goes into the pan, and all the ingredients are poured on top of it. Then I needed to recite the words.

I raised my hands and announced, “Klaatu Barada Nikto!”

There was a loud bang. This was the easiest feast I’ve ever created. I was proud of myself. Then all my hopes of a great feast were dashed. Standing before me was the DEMON TURKEY!

“WHO DARES SUMMON THE ANCIENT TURKEY OF YORE!” It boomed.

I am a great turkey slayer. I’ve vanquished zombie turkeys and ninja turkeys — even space pigs. “I am the great turkey slayer! Beware!” I shouted back.

We stared at each other, demon and man. This was it. The first move would determine the battle. I looked at the rolls, but they were behind the demon turkey. I would have to go with the casserole.

“I KNOW OF YOU!” It boomed.

“You have? I mean, of course, you have!” I said with confidence. “I’m famous!”

“IF YOU CAN BEST ME IN A BATTLE OF WITS, I WILL GRANT YOU ONE WISH! YOU LOSE I GET YOUR SOUL AND TAKE YOU TO TURKEY HELL!”

I grinned. Everyone knows I’m very witty (or was it witless). “Game on turkey!”

“FIRST A RIDDLE”

I got this! I announce with high confidence the mystery of all time, “How does my mom make the can-shaped cranberry sauce.” This is the mystery of the ages.

The Turkey Demon stared at me with its menacing red eyes. It cocked its head and stared at me. I knew this would stump the cursed creature.

“What?” It chirped, confused.

I smiled with the confidence of a true man of wit and knowledge. “How does my mom make the can-shaped cranberry sauce?” It doesn’t take a genius to outwit a bird, especially a turkey.

“It comes from a can.” It said to me.

“No.” I boomed with triumph.

“Um, can-shaped cranberry sauce would probably come from a can.” The Turkey Demon said with concern in its voice.

“Um, no.”

“Yes. Your mom opens a can of cranberry sauce.”

“Noooo!” I scream, throwing my hands up in disbelief. “This can’t be!”

“This is stupid.” The Demon Turkey said. “I now OWN YOUR SOUL!”

“Nooo!”

Before I could react, the Demon Turkey snatched me into its horrid wings and drug me into the portal to Turkey Hell. We fell through the portal, and I found myself standing on the bank of a grey-brown river. It was disgusting. It smelled. Well, it smelled like gravy. Delicious gravy!

I looked around, and I saw rolling hills of stuffing with a wide river of gravy flowing through it. Off into the distance was gravy covered mashed potato mountains. There were the plains of cranberry sauce. To top it all off, there were wild roaming pumpkin pies! Hell, this was heaven.

“BEHOLD FOWL HUMAN HUNTER OF MY PEOPLE, THIS IS TURKEY HELL!”

I cheered!

The Demon Turkey gave me a look of confusion. “Why are you cheering!” It shouted.

“This is heaven!”

“No, this is hell. Look at the gravy.”

“Yes!”

“The stuffing!”

“Yes!”

“The pumpkin pie, mashed potatoes, and cranberry sauce.”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

“I’ve had enough of this. Guards!” The Demon Turkey flapped his wings.

Several loud poofs and clouds of smoke appeared around us. When the smoke cleared, I was surrounded by a zombie turkey and three, yes three, turkey ninjas. I had trained for many years for this. I defeated them all once before, and I will do it again!

I grabbed a large ladle from the gravy river and swung it at the zombie turkey. He wasn’t prepared for my quick attack. This, unfortunately, opened me up to an attack by the ninja turkeys. The ninjas jumped, screaming their best, yet pathetic, Bruce Lee cry. They all three struck me, and I fell backward into the stuffing. It broke my fall.

I jumped quickly using my most dexterous moves and swung my ladle again. I hit one of the turkey ninjas into the gravy river. He flapped his wings in terror as he was pulled under the swift delicious current.

The other two ninjas screamed out in horror as they jumped toward me. I was ready for them this time. I used my ladle of doom to block their kick, but I didn’t realize that the zombie turkey had crept behind me. He struck me, sending me flying forward.

The battle was evenly matched as the Demon Turkey laughed, watching the great battle. I hit one of the ninja turkeys into the path of the pumpkin pie herd. He was trampled by them. I laughed, and I grabbed a piece of pie for a quick pick me up. It was delicious.

The other ninja turkey and zombie turkey recoiled in horror. I could use this to my advantage. I grabbed some of the stuffing and dipped it in the gravy river. I began to eat as much as I could.

The Demon Turkey howled in rage. “Do not eat that!”

“Why? It’s delicious. All I need is TURKEY!” The zombie turkey turned to run, but I hit him with my weapon knocking him into the gravy river to be with his ninja friend. The last ninja threw a smoke bomb and disappeared in fear. Now it was me and the Demon Turkey.

I began to eat as much as I could. The Demon Turkey screamed some more. I didn’t care; this was the finest feast I had ever had.

“Leave!” He bellowed.

“No! I love it here.”

The Demon Turkey began to weep, “Please leave.”

“Only if I can take a feast for my family with me.”

“Fine! Be-gone human, the great turkey defeater!”

The portal opened once more, and I was plunged back to my kitchen. Arranged on the kitchen table was the most incredible feast I had ever seen: stuffing, potatoes, gravy, cranberry sauce, and even a golden-brown turkey.

“And that is how I defeated the Demon Turkey and won our Thanksgiving feast!”

“Granny?” My daughter looked up at my mom, “Did you drop dad on his head when he was little?”

“Many times.” She said with a laugh.

There was a knock at the door. My son walked into the kitchen, holding several packages of rolls. “Hey, dad, the catering service forgot the rolls.”

Happy Thanksgiving!