//------------------------------// // Day 3 - The Turkey Trap - Time in verse November 3rd, Morning // Story: The Gobble Wars // by Glen Gorewood //------------------------------// Thankful Forest outskirts, Turkeys The air is tense as Butterbumber puts the final touches on the first line of taffy defense for the Turkeys. Part of the advance Taffy Tango division, also known as Taffy Tooters, he is in charge of making sure the taffy and tableware traps are ready for the incoming horde of Griffins. Wiping the sweat from his brow, the bright golden yellow Turkey glances at his work. Stretched across the forest edge is a series of tripwires and pressure pads. Each one connected to a taffy tooter shooter or forkenalation catapault, with a few tied to giant spoons of doom that are rigged to swing like oversized logs upon the unsuspecting foe. Further back is a series of pitfalls ending in marshmallow fluff and forks, a few falling loggenforks, and more utensil themed ridiculousness than Celestia could use to eat all the cake in the world. Thrice. Then there is the Shiny Thing. According to the Great Tom no Griffin can resist The Shiny Thing, but that remains to be seen. Unique to his quadrant is the ButterballBarricade, a great series of three to four oversized utensils set to a motion detector system. When a Griffin walks over the Barricade, it triggers it to come up from beneath the ground and punish them. The Great Tom mentioned he thought of them after visiting a place calked “Earth”, and a region called “Germaney”, apparently they are quite common there in places called “Raised parking”. The Great Tom’s wisdom is mighty and terrible indeed, at least as far as Butterbumber is concerned. Satisfied with his work, Butterbumber waddles through the maze of myriad surprises and gifts for the Griffin hunters. Surprisingly fast for a twenty five pound turkey, he is well aware that others in Taffy Tango are likely awaiting his contact and confirmation that all is ready in his quadrant. Finally he reaches his outpost, a seemingly innocent tree stump. Pulling the spork shaped branch causes the stump to turn with a *boop beep splat* sound effect, revealing a cavernous bigger on the inside relay control station. Waddling his roundish rumpus into the stump room, Butterbumber pulls an identical spork inside to cause the station to return to looking like a relatively ordinary stump with a wooden spork in it. Settling himself upon a work nest, and bowing his head to the GBF poster on the wall, the golden feathered turkey presses a button next to a microphone and speaks. “This is Butterball calling all Taffy Toots, come in Taffy Toots do you copy, fork.” A crackling on the radio precedes a rather snooty feminine voice responding. “This is Sour Spoon reporting in from the forest edge quadrant butternuts, Taffy Tango is a go over here, fork.” Butterbumber holds down the mic button again. “Copy that Sour Spoon, all is basted and battered over here in quadrant forkinator, Taffy Tango is a go here too, fork.” A series of voices echo over the oddly literal ham radio system, made of actual ham, all verifying their status. “This is Fluffybuns over in quadrant cakepocalypse, we are well frosted and sweet to eat, Taffy Tango is a go here too, fork.” “Tirameetu reporting in from spooniton quadrant, we are all chilled and sauced, Taffy Tango is a go here, fork.” “BakedBeets smashing the sound waves from quadrant Boomshakalaka, we are steady and drum ready, Taffy Tango is live out in here, fork.” “This is Knifealife from quadrant Saucy, we are a go and ready to fork some griffins with Taffy Tango, fork.” “MashedPotato reporting from quadrant slippery slope, we are all pretty much ready already with Taffy Tango, let’s go. Fork.” “Forkman calling in from quadrant cheesenuggets, all is ready to Tango with Taffy here Butterball. Fork.” “This is Allspice reporting live and sexy on a marshmallow horse from quadrant spicylife, Taffy Tango is a go here and I’m on a horse. Fork.” “Rogerroger reporting from quadrant Forkyfork we are sharp and ready for Taffy Tango. Fork.” “This is ThatTurkey coming to you from quadrant bahnananah, we are ready to rumble with Taffy Tango. Yeah fork!” “Totally all like great, this is MajorDanger reporting in from the bestest quadrant. The girls over in trendnsmash are like totes good for Taffy Tango. Totally fork.” “This is Carl, hey guys you won’t believe what I found in my quadrant. There are these giant gorillas living in a massive science bubble dome. And and you know how we were told about gorilla warfare right? Well we got to talking and it turns out they hate griffins and aliens, and I hate griffins and aliens, and we shared probe stories. Yeah the aliens got them too, they did some crazy modification things and you will not believe what happ..” And a communal shout echoes over the ham radio from every control relay station in the forest outskirts. “SHUT UP CARL! FORK!” The radio goes to static before the thankfully last highly annoying member of Taffy Tango reports in again. “Well you see it turns out that it’s called Independenceday quadrant because..” Butterbumber internally screams as his feathers fluff outwards like the pointy prongs of a fork, then externally screams into the ham radio mic. “CARL! Just report whether or not you are ready to Taffy Tango or not and please..for the sake of the Great Tom..just shut the fork up. Fork.” Static ripples over the ham radio channel for a good minute before that damned crazy turkey reports in again. “Sorry Butterball. All is a go to Taffy Tango in Independenceday quadrant, let’s go give those griffins what the aliens gave me! Fork.” Butterbumber groans, his golden feather trimmed blue eyes twitching. Without the mic on he grumbles. “Damn crazy Carl. What is that nutty turkey going to give the Griffins? Crazy? Better get this over with before he turns on the mic again.” And as if on cue, Carl speaks again. “Speaking of those Gorillas did you know they have a band and they are..” Faster than a speeding finger fork the golden turkey smashes the mic button down and shouts. “And that’s good to go Taffy Tooters. Please put your ham mics on emergency alert only mode and prepare for Gobble War phase one. I repeat we are ready to Taffy Tango, Butterball out. Fork.” With that Butterbumber promptly turns the ham mic to emergency mode and stares at his rock candy screen that shows images of his quadrant in 8 bit format. Heaving a deep sigh of relief and frustration he grumbles. “Why did I have to get stuck with Carl? This is going to be a long war. May the forks be with us.” Visible on the screen through forkivision he sees a group of vision approaching the forest outskirts. Grinning, Butterbumber flexes his finger feathers, ready to fork a griffin where no turkey has forked before.