Here where I work, my partner in crime and I are regular contributers to the employee newsletter. Recently we were given editorial power over the entire newsletter as our submissions (the only submissions with ANY sense of humor) were the ones that people read, and the powers-that-be are hoping we can infuse some life into the thing.
With that in mind, we sponsored the following contest. We were underwhelmed with the response. (We got a couple of good ones… I’ll share those later).
In any case, I was hoping that you people would like to submit some entries. I’m posting the original rules as I did in our newsletter. Obviously, you should ignore the time limit. Also, I’m not giving away another turkey (we awarded the prize yesterday). So, no real prizes. Sorry.
Anyway, here it is:
You’re a turkey. [Editor’s Note: Matt and Ramon have been looking for an excuse to say that.] You are wandering around, thinking turkey thoughts and minding your own turkey business like every other day, when Farmer John approaches you. “Oh good,” you think to yourself. “It’s lunchtime already.” But there’s something wrong. This isn’t the Farmer John you know and love. No, this Farmer John has an evil smirk on his face, a hungry look in his eyes. Before you can think, he grabs you by the neck.
You panic. What’s going on? And then it hits you. It’s been getting colder. The harvest is over. It must be <insert dramatic music>, THANKSGIVING! NO!!! You thought it was only a rumor, an urban legend that mean older brother turkeys tell you to make you cry like a sissy (but that’s another story). You try to break free, but Farmer John’s grip is too tight.
There ahead, you see it. The chopping block! Before you know it, you’re laying on a stump of wood, the sadistic farmer standing over you, hatchet in hand.
“Any last words?” he asks, with a chuckle?
You have to think fast…
The contest: Your job is to save the turkey. What can he say to Farmer John to save his waddle? Or is this turkey some secret turkey ninja that Farmer John was unwise to mess with?
The rules:
- The first rule of the Turkey Contest is that you don’t talk about the Turkey Contest. The second rule of… Oh, wait, nevermind…
- You can submit stories, poetry, a picture you drew, whatever you’d like. There is no limit on length. It MUST be original. No scouring the Internet for funny turkey stories.
- You can enter as often as you like, but please only submit your best stuff. If you know it’s crap and it ain’t gonna win, don’t send it.
- Entries must be in by Friday, November 17.
- You can use as much fowl language as you like. However, if we print it, we’ll replace fowl language with some Qbert style @&%$!
- Ramon and Matt are the first, final and only official judges (although we may solicit opinions if we feel like it). Our decisions are final, even if they make no sense to you mere mortals.
The prizes:
The grand prize winner will win a free Butterball Turkey in time for Thanksgiving. Why are we giving away a Butterball Turkey? Would you pass up the chance to say Butterball Turkey? Fine Print: As Matt and I are fairly cheap, it’s not going to be a huge Turkey. Tell Uncle Louie and his six bratty kids that they’ll have to go to Grandma’s this year.
Any runners-up will be eligible to receive other unspecified prizes which may include: A Banquet Turkey Dinner; some turkey lunchmeat; Spam, Spam, eggs and Spam; or a turkey Pez dispenser.
And, when we didn’t get any entries, I begged for some:
Ok, so I understand that some of you just found out about our contest yesterday. Some of you have known about it since our newsletter has come out. We have yet to receive a singe entry. Why is that? I asked myself. Is it because everyone is too busy to enter? Yeah, I laughed at that one too. Is it because we lack creativity? No, that can’t be it either. Some of you wear clothes that are even more “creative” than mine. So, I decided that no one must give a darn about the turkey. Nobody cares if the turkey lives or dies. And why should you? You don’t know this turkey. You don’t know if he’s a nice turkey or a jerky turkey. You don’t know if he voted for Bush, Gore or Nader, or even if he voted at all. (He’s keeping this to himself as he fears some of you would REALLY want to see him beheaded, depending on the answer). So, I sat down and interviewed our friend turkey and came up with this profile.
(Note: You are, of course, welcome to disregard or change any of this information for your own entry into the contest… do whatever you’d like).
NAME: Woodrow
Age: 3 1/2
EDUCATION: BS in Psycology and Music Theory
OCCUPATION: Turkey
FAVORITE COLOR: Mauve
FAVORITE FOOD: Ham (Woodrow suggests that ham makes a great Thanksgiving main course).
FAVORITE HOBBY: Staying alive
FAVORITE MOVIE: Chicken Run starring the voice of Mel Gibson
FAVORITE SONG: I Will Survive
FAVORITE BOOK: Animal Farm by George Orwell
TURN-OFFS: Farmers with hatchets