November 19 - Turkey Trot

All right. Listen up, turkeys.
We're getting down to decision time.
Every day, every hour we spend on this lot gets us closer to getting stuffed.
Our vacation is over, and it's time to check out of this hotel. And if we're gonna do this, it's gotta be tonight.
Look, I know it seems like we've got it good here.
We've got a warm place to sleep, plenty to eat, and the company of all our friends.
Life is good here.
But it's a little bit too good, wouldn't you say?
Lately things just haven't been adding up for me.
Haven't you noticed the increase in our food allotments these last few weeks? Haven't you noticed that we're all putting on a lot of weight?
Something's up.
Don't tell me you're not at least a little bit suspicious.
I can't be the only one who remembers the same thing happening last year. Right around when the leaves changed and it started getting colder: more food. A lot more food. And then suddenly they whisked all the bigger, older guys through that big door and they were all excited because they thought they were going on a field trip.
Only they never came back.
Are you guys seriously telling me you didn't notice that they never came back? I know we all kind of look alike, but come on.
But listen: They didn't get transferred, they didn't get furloughed, they didn't get moved to a place in the country.
And no, they didn't get presidential pardons.
Besides, have you ever talked to Dolly? She was the one who got "pardoned" by the president last year. It was on TV and everything. Don't you remember? In the news they were saying how she would be going to some petting zoo in Bethesda, and everyone laughed and took pictures, and they put her in a pick-up truck to head off to her new home in the Bethesda Petting Zoo.
Yeah.
Right.
There are no "petting zoos" in Bethesda, you turkeys.
No "family farms" either.
They staged that fake pardon photo op in the rose garden to put a happy face on what goes on here every year. And then they turned around and brought Dolly right back here.
You getting the picture?
Is this all starting to sink in?
Is this starting to make sense, you turkeys?
Our days are numbered here.
Every day we stay here brings us closer to that door.
So I say we get out while we still can.
My plan?
Well, it's not much. It definitely ain't no Chicken Run.
Basically, my plan consists of us gobbling our asses off and running in the opposite direction of the door.
Yes, I know it needs work, but what do you want from me? They keep this place on lock down. What do you want me to say? I'll seduce one of the guards? Slip the keys out of his pocket while he's sleeping? Crash a truck through the door? Create a diversion that will allow the rest of you to run gobbling into the night?
Come on. I'm a turkey, for crying out loud.
The only plan I can give you is we run. When they open that big door, we turn around, start gobbling like there's no tomorrow, and run.
It's either that or hope for a presidential pardon.
We're screwed, aren't we?