Holy Cow by David Duchovny Read Free Book Online

Even so, he seemed a bit vain and impressed with himself, and walked with the confident strut of a pimp from a ’70s blaxploitation movie.)
    TOM
    I guess right about now, you’re asking yourself, “Self, what is that gorgeous hunk of turkey man all about and why is he pimp-rollin’ my lucky way?”
    ELSIE
    No. Not even close.
    TOM
    C’mon, baby, let’s be real.
    ELSIE
    I was wondering when was the last time that little flightless bird had a meal. Boy oh boy, you are thin.
    TOM
    Thank you for noticing.
    ELSIE
    I’ve got some slop here the pigs left and some chicken feed the chickens didn’t finish.
    And with that, the natural nerves of the turkey overwhelmed him, and he lost all semblance of pimp-roll bravado, reacting to the food the way Dracula does to a cross.
    TOM
    Keep that food away from me! Are you insane?
    ELSIE
    What? You just looked like you could use a meal, is all. You look terrible.
    TOM
    I’m all muscle, baby girl. All muscle, gristle, and bone.
    TOM struck a muscleman pose, the “archer.”
    ELSIE
    You should eat. And don’t call me “baby girl.”
    TOM
    I can’t eat.
    ELSIE
    Why not?
    TOM
    ’Cause I’ll get fat.
    ELSIE
    Oh, you’re one of those anorexics! I’ve heard about that. Or bulimic. Or body dysmorphic disorder. Are you a duck trapped in a chicken trapped in a turkey’s body? A turducken? Which is it now?
    TOM
    None of that! I’m totally compos mentis in the cabeza . You got it all wrong; I’m not a jive turkey. November is just a few months away!
    ELSIE
    And what happens in November, you fly south and wanna look good in your mankini? Oh wait, you can’t fly …
    TOM
    Do I have to spell it out for you? The fourth Thursday of every November—Thanksgiving!!! Everyone in America, we are talking millions of people, will eat a turkey. Millions of us get slaughtered every year on one black day!!!
    ELSIE
    That sucks, but at least it’s only one day.
    TOM
    That’s why I’m all skinny. I’m hoping they’ll look at me and think, “That ain’t no drumstick.”
    ELSIE
    Good plan. Good luck with that.
    TOM
    I need more than luck. And I have an actual plan.
    ELSIE
    Oh geez … here we go …
    TOM
    I hear you have a map.
    You try keeping a secret on a farm. Impossible. They don’t say “gossiping like hens” for nothing. I shoved the map over to the bird. He unrolled it with his beak. I was impressed with his dexterity.
    TOM
    Right here.
    I looked where he was beaking—seemed like around the Middle East again. Seemed like everything always led back to the Middle East.
    ELSIE
    Iraq?
    TOM
    Not Iraq. Turkey!!!
    ELSIE
    Yes, that’s right, Turkey is the name of a country.
    TOM
    Yes, and do you think for a moment that they are going to eat the thing their country is named after? That’s my country, those are my peeps. I’ll be like royalty over there—instead of being on a hero, I will be a hero! They may make me king. My name is on all the money. I’ll be rich as Croesus. I gotta get to Turkey!! And, just as an aside, however we get there, can we not go through that country called Hungary? It sounds like a nightmare for all of us. Just the name makes me shiver: Hungary . And all the scary, hungry Hungaryarians that live there.
    ELSIE
    Okay, I concede you have a point, Turkey, but I’m already traveling heavy with a pig at my side that I gotta get to Israel. A bird is just gonna slow me down even more, and what’s more, you’re a flightless bird. You’re a bird that can’t fly. You’re an oxymoron.
    TOM
    Hurtful. Calling me a moron.
    ELSIE
    I said “oxymoron.”
    TOM
    Any kind of moron. Just hurtful.
    ELSIE
    I got no time for niceties.
    TOM
    Okay, but what if I added value to the enterprise, rather than subtracted? Because that’s what I’m all about—being additive, not subtractatative …
    ELSIE
    What are you getting at?
    And I didn’t know where he pulled it out from, ’cause turkeys don’t have any pockets, but in the slivered moonlight, he was pushing toward me what