Nov 24, 2009

The Ghost of Turkeys Past Act 3

Act 1
Act 2




Mr. Yam spent the next 40 minutes trying to disprove, and rationalize that what he just saw had to have been a bad acid trip (he is a musician you know).

"This can't be real, ghosts don't exist." he explained to himself.

Bzzzz, bzzzz, bzzzz.

"WHAT THE HELL!!!!" he screamed. "Oh, it's just a text message."

Mr. Yam, took his phone and read the message.

LOLZ! ghsts r real! Look bhnd u! LOLZ!


"Look behind me..." Mr. Yam began to turn around. "What in the, Ahhhhhhh!!!!!"

"Like, dude, why are you freaking out?" the ghost said with an attitude.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!"

"*sigh* Seriously, like grow up. Didn't you get my text?"

"Ahhhhhhhhheeey. You are kind of hot." Mr. Yam said as he noticed the spirit was a 23 year old, busty blond, slightly translucent.

"Like, let's just get this over with. I am the Ghost of Turkeys Past." she said impatiently.

"What? Turkeys Past?"

"Helloooooo, that is what I just said. Try to like follow along."

"Uhh, you know that you are naked... right?" Mr. Yam said nervously.

"What? Have you never seen a woman's body before?"

"Well yeah, but uhh, not one with such, uhh, ummm..."

"Big tits?"

"Yes."

"Well are you going to just stare at them all day? Or can I continue?"

"Oh uh, sure. Contitue. I mean, yes, go on."

"Ok." The spirit grabs Mr. Yams hands, and places them upon her breasts. "Hold on." Mr. Yam gladly obliges.

The spirit and Mr. Yam were suddenly outside, standing in front of a small farm.

"I recognize this place. This is where I was raised! Mom and Pa's turkey farm!" Mr. Yam exclaimed.

"Wow, what a dump." the spirit laughed.

"Hey! This is my childhood home you are talking about!" Mr. yam said in anger.

" Hey this is my childhood home you are talking about!" the spirit mocked. "It's still a dump."

"Look, there's mom! Mooooooommmm!!!!"

"She can't..."

"MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMM!!! OVER HERE IT'S ME!!!"

"She can't hear..."

"MOOMM, MOOOMM, MOOOOOOOOOMMMMM!!!"

"For the love of..."

"IT'S ME YOUR SON!!! TIBERIUS!!!!!"

"SHUT THE HELL UP SHE CAN'T HEAR YOU!!!!!" the spirit yelled.

"What? She's right there!" Tiberius protested.

"Yes, but we are not among the living. Think of this like a movie."

"So she can't hear me?"

"Bingo Einstein."

The two walked around the farm, and for some reason Tiberius still thought that people could hear him. They walked to a small red barn.

"Do you know what this is?" the spirit asked.

"Yes, this is the barn, where we kept the turkeys."

"Do you know why we are here?"

"Isn't that why you are here?"

"I guess."

They go through the door, and what the spirit see's makes her scream.

"Ewwww gross!!!!"

"Uhhh...."

"What is wrong with you!!!!"

"Errr...."

"What are you doing to that turkey!!!"

"......" Tiberius is becoming noticeably embarrassed.

"Ok, this is just sick. We are leaving." She grabs his hands, and once again they vanish. They reappear in Tiberius' room.

"I can explain! I was young! I loved that turkey!" Tiberius frantically spouted out.

"I'm like leaving. You are a pervy old man."

And then she was gone. Tiberius sat on his bed, and looked at the clock. "One thirty four. This is going to be a long night."

Nov 18, 2009

The Ghost of Turkeys Past Act 2

Act 1

Mr Yam was prepared for bed, (I don't think I need to include what he did. Let's just say a shower, and more.) and a half step away from his bed when he heard a thunderous knock. Mr. Yam murmured under his breath "Who the expletive is at my door? I bet it is that bitch of a wife of mine." he laughed. "I knew you would be back!" he shouted with glee, as he started walking to the door. But to his surprise it was not.

"Who the hell are you?" Mr. Yam asked.

"I'm Keith, from accounting."

"Uhh... And why are you here?"

"Oh, yeah. I have message for you."

"From who? My wife I bet!"

"I don't know man. I was trying to score some crack and some guy asked if I wanted to make five bucks."

"Oh? And what was his message?"

"Oh yeah right. *clears throat* 'Hear me!' cried the Ghost. 'My time is nearly gone.'"

"Uhhh what are you talking about?"

"Dude. Shut up. I'm telling it like he told me to tell it."

"Alright fine, just get on with it."

"Anyway! As I was saying. *clears throat* 'I am here tonight to warn you, that you have yet a chance and hope of escaping my fate. A chance and hope of my procuring, Mr. Yam.'"

"This sounds oddly familiar..."

"You will be haunted, by three spirits!"

"Wait a minute... This sounds a lot like A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens" Mr. Yam stated.

"Seriously man. This would take literally two minutes if you would just shut up."

"Fine fine, go on."

"You know what. You aren't taking this seriously so I'm giving you the cliff notes. First ghost will come at one when the bell tolls, the second will be an hour after that, and the last an hour after that."

"In A Christmas Carol his ghosts were spread over three days." Mr. Yam said snidely.

"'In A Christmas Carol his ghosts were spread over three days'" Keith mocked. "Look dude, I was just doing this for the 20 bucks. So if you have problem take it up with some one else."

"Words hurt... Words hurt."

"Whatever. I have a hooker and twenty four pack waiting for me. I'm leaving. Good luck with whatever."

Mr. Yam shut the door and started laughing. "I wonder who put him up to that." He looked at the clock "Well it's 12:20 so I guess I'll find out" he said under his breath.

Nov 17, 2009

The Ghost of Turkeys Past Act 1

As we approach our favorite holiday stretch, I have decided to tell the tale of Turkey's who didn't make it. You all have heard the story of Scrooge and his ghosts right? Well this is nothing like that.

This tell of tales begins in the small village of Stuffing, Turkey. It was Turkey Day Eve, and Mr. Yam, and his new Wife Cindy Yam, were sitting down for their first Turkey Day Eve together. You see Mr. Yam was an immigrant of Hungry, and he had not yet known the feast that is Turkey Day. Mr. Yam was a respected flutist, and Mrs. Yam a raiser of cocks (roosters you pervs). Not much is known of Mr. Yam but the village gladly accepted him as one of their own. Not to mention he rode in with a cart of gold.

As the couple was discussing the plan for tomorrow a knock was heard at the door.

*knock knock*
"Hello?" the man at the door squeaked.

"Honey be a dear and go get the door." said Mr. Yam.

"Why do I always have to get the door? I have been raising cocks all day while you were in the room playing with your flute!" shouted Mrs. Yam.

"Flute playing is hard work! Any idiot can raise cocks!"

"How dare you!"

"How dare I? How dare I!?"

"Uhhh, hello? I'm still at the door..." the man at the door said.

"SHUT UP!" the Yams yelled in unison.

"You make me do everything! Raise the cocks, cook, clean, and what do you do? You play your flute all day!" Mrs. Yam nagged.

"If you don't like it leave!" Mr. Yam shouted.

"I think I'm going to go..." the man at the door muttered.

"See look at what you did! You made our guest leave!" Mr. Yam noted.

"Me? I made him leave? I don't think so!"

"Make like a tree, and get the fuck out." Mr. Yam cleverly said.

"Why I never!" Mrs. Yam screeched while storming off.

"I'll help you pack you ungrateful harlot!"

Mrs. Yam, grabbed her cocks and left the house.

"About damn time she left" Mr. Yam mumbled. "Now I can play my flute in peace." And he did just that. He played his flute 4 times that night. Exhausted from his strenuous flute playing Mr. Yam decided to go to sleep.
 
The Mind of Derek Bowles