Turckyz is for life not for krismis !
The Turkeys have had enough of Christmas and getting eaten.
It is time for Revolution !
The Turkeys' takeover of the Farm, and their subsequent alliances with French Hens, Ostriches and Lesser Fowls are chronicled here, by Brother Nubbly, who has mastered the art of spelling.
|You can read Brother Nubbly's book by clicking right here. Available in printed and Kindle formats.|
Us turckyz liv down on Mistr Jonstonz farm. Mistr Jonston is not a nice man. Evry Krismis he cumz with his choper und chops us und us is dead und sold for eeting.
Us turckyz thot that this year us wood not be choped. Bobblur thot it furst. "Bruthurz und sisturz" sez Bobblur, "Lend me yur eerz." Us dont no why he sez that, but Bruthur Bobblur is ver clevr. Us lissend with eerz. "Bruthurz und sisturz," sez Bobblur to us lissening, "Tim has cum for us to stop geting choped. A turcky is for lif, not for Krismis dinnr." Us gobled nicely agreeing. Bobblur is ver ver clevr. Turckyz is for lif not for dinnr.
Well that woz the start of it ol. One nite neer Krismis wen Mistr Jonston woz sharpning his choper us took him by surpriz und tyed him up in his hoos. Mistr Jonston showted a lot und screemd a lot but Bruthur Boibblur sez be kwite und pekkd his toze. Mistr Jonston cryed then lik a man-babby und then kept kwite. Sistur Stubbly woz told to gard him in his hoos und the rest of us went ootsyd.
"Bruthur Nubbly," sez Bruthur Bobblur to me, "Yoo are the bestest spellur in all the turckyz. Make us a big flag with wurdz on it that us can hang up on the roof und tel the yoomanz that us wont get choped."
Und so it beggan. Reed heer, deer reedurz, of the eggsploitz of the Brayv und Feerlis Turckyz und how they wun the hartz und mynds of oll uthir freedim-luvving Fowls. Yoo wil not be disappintit ! Yoo may be inspyrd !
(All profits from the sale of this book will be used to further the Permanent Fowl Revolution.)