By hell, here we are again my friends, family, cohorts, loyal wife, sweet ‘n sexy sister-in-law, Bubba J, Betty-Jo, and lil’ Bubba T — get that finger outta your nose boy — all gathered together for yet another splendid Thanksgiving Day. A time when millions of imprisoned, tortured, and mercilessly plucked and decapitated turkeys grace the loving tables of Mr. and Ms. Goodfolk all across this wondrous land of bilk and money milk and honey; from sea to shining radioactive sea.
Few are the ways we dutiful subjects of Eminent Empire can better express our fondness and appreciation for the Spirit of Thanksgiving than in the sacrificial consumption of a genetically modified, holy wholly innocent winged creature. Thereby honoring the time-honored genocide of them godless savage red-skin occupiers of this our grate great nation.
Now before we sit down and put knife to the roasted flesh of this once enlivened spirit, mimicking our esteemed forefathers as they physically and metaphorically put knife in the back of those they so admirably hornswoggled — a con by the way that carries well unto this day — let us bow our heads and offer the Almighty a mere spit of our gratitude.
Dude, thank you for creating us white men in your likeness, a superior and conquering gender, race, and species that we might enslave and subjugate the world and all its inhabitants with a heavy and unrelenting hand — as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily connivance. Lead us not into compassion, but deliver us from morality. Amen.
Now, let us feed upon the flesh of this innocent fowl that we might feed the foul that dwells within our flesh.
— But goddamn if football ain’t on!
Fetch me a Budweiser, bitch. And bring me both ’em turkey legs.