Zombie Turduckens

You asked for it.

While it is true that my zombie apocalypse team post did not make number one (as predicted), it is entirely due to some freak of google. From some strange reason my Don’t Worry Be Happy post shot to number one without any effort whatsoever. People are googling the hell outta it. 

Again, I don’t know why.

I consider it a fluke of google, and therefore the ZOMBIE TURDUCKENS ARE LOOSE.

Imagine a sleepy southern California town with ten houses and a shopping mall. It’s Thanksgiving. The Cowboys are playing (this term is used loosely) against… who cares?

John Madden chose this town to retire in. He died.

But the body lived on! To open a small deli stand specializing in baked bird within a bird within a bird treats. And six legs. Can’t forget the six legs. Kinda like a giant roach. All brown and crunchy.

I’d bore you with the details… but since zombification of cooked meat is not an exact science it can’t be boring! John Madden’s body made hundreds of turduckens. And then he took one bite out of each one.

Thunder!

Lightning!

And hundreds of turduckens began wobbling north headed straight for…. Wait for it….

I said WAIT!

CANADA.

But this being America and turduckens are only ever made on Thanksgiving (not so much for the holiday as for consolation after watching the Cowboys lose) the army of crispy deliciousness couldn’t make it as far as Bakersfield before being chased down by Detroit Lions fans and consumed. They even ate the giblets.

Ewwwwwwwwww. Gross.

This is especially disconcerting because there were only eight of them.

You. Asked. For. It.

 

 

I believe he is eating Pat Summerall's pickled brain.