The Night Before Thanksgiving

'Twas the night before Thanksgiving,

And all through the farm

Not a turkey was living;

Every single one was gone.

 

The axe-head lay bloody,

Its blade in the stump,

And lying nearby:

A disgusting red lump.

 

The turkeys, all butchered

And hanging on hooks,

Were starting to smell bad,

And they weren't much for looks.

 

I and my wife

Were laying in bed

With specks of fresh turkey-blood

Still on our heads.

 

Then from down the hallway

There came a gruesome noise;

Someone had chopped the head off of

One of our boys!

 

I flew to the window

and opened the sash,

Where I jumped to the lawn

And took off in a dash.

 

Then I tripped on a log

And my fingers got mashed,

And someone ripped off my head

With the spine still attached!

 

He swung my head around

Like a ball on a rope;

And I was still living!

-And knew I had no hope.

 

And the last thing I heard

As I exited life

Was, "Now we'll carve up his insides

With an electric steak knife!?"


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