Hello, I’m Papa Turkey and this is my story:
I was born in September 1621 in Turkey. I heard about a new land where everyone could roam free, so I set out on a pilgrimmage with my two sons, Tom and Gobbler. My first obstacle was Greece. How could I ever make it across Greece? It’s really hot in Greece and we definitely did not want to baste in the scorching sun. Luckily, Bulgaria borders Turkey so we took that route, wobbled through Romania and then we suddenly stopped. The country we almost entered was Hungary. I thought better of it and stayed away from Hungary. We ventured through Slovenia, Italy, and France.
In France, we hitched a ride to the French Riviera in a Coup De’ville. We waited until dark, found out when a ship was departing and snuck on it. What we didn’t know is that the ship made a stop in Iceland. This upset me because I looked on land and saw my Turkish cousin Tim. He was frozen.
Tom, Gobbler, and I were spotted, but we ran under the ship and hid. Alluding the knife and rack, we remained hidden and the ship finally embarked to the new land. The crew looked like a bunch of movers, so my guess is we were on the Mayflower. It was now November 1621. On the 21st day, we landed on some big rock.
When we made it to the new land, we saw Pilgrims and Indians shaking hands. I saw feathers in the Indians’ hats and got chills. They saw us, chased us, and we became Turkish prisoners. Gobbler was truly gobbling and Tom was running around in circles. We soon smelled fire. Uh oh, they were planning to cook us. Tom and Gobbler were taken against their will near the fire. I tired to keep them calm. Poor guys, when they got near the fire, they sweat so much, they melted some and got butter balls.
I squeezed out of my turkey cell and yelled at the Indian to let them go. Amazingly, the Indian was so impressed, he let them go and kept us as pets. I think I became a Turkish Native American. Afterall, he named me Crazy Bird.