The Bloggh Thanksgiving Special starring Art Carney and Phyllis Diller with Musical Guest Tiny Tim

Thanksgiving. Some may say that it was Lincoln who established it as a national holiday. Others may say it’s to remember people with belts on their hats and maize. But here in our alternate universe of The Realm, where the logic behind trekking the stars and the real benefits of 800 pennies in a sock are debated, a continuing story of Thanksgiving’s origins has been started…

It was a dark and stormy night for Miles Standoffish. He had been hired to protect a rag-tag bunch of peasants running from an evil empire who had a strict anti-headbelt policy. Tonight under the eaves of a maize hut, Standoffish considered his lot in life.

In the distance he heard a predatory cry pierce the New England forest.

Continue the story in the comments. Pass the story along.

Semi-related posts:

  1. Thanksgiving Eve
  2. Specials: The Special Ending
  3. Unexpected Party Guest
  4. What I learned from High School Musical 2
  5. Like High School Art Class – which I never took

8 thoughts on “The Bloggh Thanksgiving Special starring Art Carney and Phyllis Diller with Musical Guest Tiny Tim

  1. With resonating clucks, the monster pursued our hero over the river and through the woods, down past his grandmother’s house, until they came to a clearing. Mr Standoffish threatened “D-d-don’t come near me, you here?! I kn-n-now how to vanquish a beast of your sorts!” The were-fowl cocked it’s head as if intrigued…

  2. Intrigued by the fact that each of its bones, each of its sinews were stretching, pulling, exploding into its altered form. Those that have survived a were-turkey’s transformation have described it as a cross between…

  3. Chinese water torture and watching reality television! The were-turkey let out a sinister cluck, and Mr. Standoffish was thrown on to is back by the stench of death and fowl excrement. As light was beaming round the monster, and Mr Standoffish remembered something his wise, turkey-wrangler grandfather had once told him…

  4. “Son, nevah stand too close to a transforming were-fowl.”

    Miles wiped his face on his sleeve and pulled his sword out of it’s scabbard.

  5. The sword, hand-crafted by the unbathed smithys of New Amsterwheel, had been passed down from generation to generation by the first-born were-fowl hunters since the days of…

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