 Horror/Scary: November 27, 2019 Issue [#9883] |
  Horror/Scary
This week: Turkey Blood On Your Hands Edited by: W.D.Wilcox  
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Turkey Blood On Your Hands
There's nothing worse than pulling your Thanksgiving turkey out of the oven only to see it bleeding  . It's true that your luscious turkey dinner will ooze blood in places when it should be cooked all the way through. The dark meat especially has a tendency to hold blood. So, you don't have to kill a turkey to actually get its blood on your hands.
I've done some research on Turkey Blood and have discovered it has quite a few medicinal purposes. Tukey Red Blood Cells are manufactured using whole blood collections from turkeys. The whole blood is washed to remove the platelet-rich plasma, buffy coat layer, and leukocytes. The red blood cells are supplied as a 5% suspension in phosphate buffered saline (PBS). Red blood cells are perishable and are collected and processed upon receipt of orders. A 15 ml bottle will cost you about $131. You can also purchase bovine, chicken, donkey, canine, goat, goose, emu, and even porcupine.
This sounds great if you're, you know, a witch or something and need some real blood to finish that tricky potion you've been working on. Now of course these blood samples are specifically used for research applications. But hey, why let any of that turkey go to waste?
I wrote a silly little dialogue about a fella who came up with an idea on how to get really FRESH turkey. It goes like this . . . .
Mr. Snood
“I can do this.”
“What makes you think you’re truly qualified, Mr. Snood?”
“I’ve worked with turkeys all my life. I know ‘em…inside and out.”
“Well, here at Yucky Farms, we pride ourselves on the best-tasting turkeys in the world, so your expertise would be an asset to our production facility. But this is a big job. We send turkeys all across America. Have you ever managed a plant this size before?”
“No, Mr. Yucky, but I believe my ideas would revolutionize the industry.”
“In what way?”
“Just think about it. You spend a lot of time and money killing turkeys. I promise I could cut those expenditures by more than half.”
“Whoa…Mr. Snood, that’s a big promise. Just how could you possibly do that?”
“Hypnotism.”
“What…?”
“Hypnotism. I will hypnotize every turkey that comes through here. People will be able to go to the store and buy a real live turkey and take ‘er home. You can’t beat freshness like that.”
“Please, Mr. Snood, you’re wasting my time. That’s just plain ridiculous.”
“I thought you might say that. Bring me a turkey and I’ll show you.”
“Please…I really don’t have the time for such foolishness…”
“Bring me a turkey!”
Bzzzt
“Mrs. Trout? Send in the turkey.”
“Oh, that’s a nice fat one. He’ll do just fine.”
“This better be good, Mr. Snood.”
“Watch. I point my finger at his eyes. I move my hand to the left…to the right…up…then down…and then I set my finger on his beak.”
“Yes, yes, I see. He does seem to be calming down a bit.”
“Well, he ain’t fully hypnotized just yet. See that red dangly thing hanging down from the top of his nose?”
“Yes…that’s called a snood.”
“Exactly! It’s what a turkey uses to get a mate, or to show when he’s pissed-off. It turns a bright red.”
“Yes…go on.”
“Well, what I do is stroke that thing with my finger, see—real gentle like. Stroke it…stroke it…stroke it…until it finally changes color, and then…there you go. He’s totally hypnotized. Now you can do whatever you want to him and he won’t budge an inch.”
“Whatever I want?”
“Yep. You can pull all his feathers out, load him in a cage, or throw him up in the air…whatever you want. He’s completely docile.”
“No way.”
“Way…just try it. Pull all his damn feathers out.”
“Okay, I will: Pluck-pluck-pluck. That, is amazing! He never moved. It’s like…it’s like…he was totally hypnotized.”
“Exactly. Now you don’t have to kill ‘em. You can send ‘em straight to the stores completely plucked and alive. Just think how fresh they’d be, and how much money you’d save.”
“Mr. Snood, you’re hired! But there’s just one thing.”
“Oh, what’s that?”
“That red dangly thing hanging from your nose….What the hell is that?”
“That’s my snood. I got to liking rubbing ‘em so much, I had one grafted on.”
“Well, that’s gotta go, or no deal.”
“What...? Forget it then.”
"Mr. Snood"
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Leftovers
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Excerpt::
She plopped down and stared out at the near empty street. The moon hid behind a cloud cover and the only illumination came from the street lamps. The taillights of the passing car disappeared and left her alone.
Excerpt::There Tom lay among his deceased brothers and sisters in the freezer case. He was repeatedly jostled around as people searched for the perfect bird.
Excerpt::The walls were painted red, blood still dripping from the pictures adorning them. My eyes darted frantically until they settled on what I soon discovered was my father's eyeless corpse, his traditional Thanksgiving carving knife plunged deep into his torso. My stomach lurched at the ghastly scene before me. Quickly turning away to regurgitate my grease laden meal, I stumbled over the body of my mother.
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Excerpt::Before Norman could answer, Glynda’s father stood up, “Now that all of us are finally present,” his eyes focused on Norman, “let us say prayer.” Without a word, everyone held one another’s hand, as he continued, “Let us thank Thee for this bountiful offering of which we are about to accept.”
Excerpt::Right on time, he thought and ran directly at the woman with new vigour. She ran straight into the park screaming, “Leave me alone you damned turkey, I’m vegetarian.”
Excerpy::I feel sad for some of the other side dishes though, Sticky Stuffing or Cranky Cranberry. You know, you can tell whether someone likes you by the look on their face when they eat you. Have you ever seen the look on someone’s face when they try to eat Cranberry sauce? Oh, man, it gives me the willies.
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