Amidst the trees of the Thankful Forest
Golra and Goliath stalk through the overgrown vines and foliage of the forest where the turkeys dwell. To their left their team mates Gina and Gary mirror their movements. Perfectly synchronized hunting strategies honed over the entire year for this very day, are about to backfire gloriously.
It is Gary who accidentally springs the tripwire, that triggers the mechanism, that lets loose the cannon, that causes the forks to fly. The pronged projectiles are not immediately noticed by the Griffins for their eyes are focused on a lone turkey wearing a sundress fluttering it’s eyelashes at them fearlessly. The precocious fowl is pretty in pink floral as she ruffles her tail feathers and waves in a coy manner. The four ferocious predatory creatures just tilt their heads in unison in utter confusion, as the teasing turkey winks at them.
“Yoo-hoo, boys and girl, are you distracted by little old me?” The turkey giggles before quickly ducking into the underbrush with the speed of a road runner.
Such a distraction means that the poor fair Griffins of Team FairPlay had no chance whatsoever when the forks hit their marks. The marks being right in the well toned griffin butts. Within seconds they become somewhat similar in appearance to pincushions, with pronged fork needles embedded in those prized posteriors.
“Oh frackfeathers!” Shrieks Golra, collapsing in agony as the forks pierce his honey colored hindquarters.
“Aaaaahh Maria!” Goliath howls like a banshee, falling to his side and clutching his rear left leg that harbors an old knee injury from when he was an adventurer.
“My perfect bum! It burns!” Gina screams as she bounces around, her butt turning red as the ghost chili tipped fork prongs irritate her ridiculously red rear.
“Not the jewels!” Gary groans as he clutches his gonads, a rather small desert fork having lodged itself straight through both like a punk piercing. Falling to his side he sheds tears for his lost treasure, a victim of the power of pronged silverware.
The underbrush before the pain paralyzed four shifts, as a certain turkey head pops up. It’s mascara still perfect and feathered wings applying lipstick while giggling at the horrible fate that has befallen poor team FairPlay. Putting the lipstick away, she waves once more before leaping in the air. Clicking her heels together she goes “meep meep” before taking off in a streak of blue and paler blue into the woods beyond.
Further to the west an unfortunate team known as Sonicboom has met a far worse fate. Their leader Goblet had decided a straightforward approach was the best option, so she led her teammates Gman, Gorgo, and Gillie into the most ridiculously obvious of all the traps the turkeys had set up.
Now she and her team are stuck to the side of a giant swaying fork, taffy and feathered and colored in all the hues of the rainbow.
“Not a word. Not one single word.” Goblet seethes as she watches the same turkey that had led them into this trap do that obnoxious Mexicolt dance number again.
“Aye Marecarena!” The well mustached turkey sings before beginning the song and dance fore the fiftieth time. Shaking his tail feathers he goes, “one maca two maca..”
This prompts a desperate Gman to scream in tortured pain, “Oh sweet Celestia make it stop! This is torture!”
Gorgo facetalons causing his taffy and rainbow feathered right claw to stick to his face.
Gillie on the other hand merely rolls her eyes, and grumbles in a quite irritated tone. “I think that’s the plan Gman...”
“Aye Marecarena! Bum bum bum bum..”
The Turkey continues the song for the fifty first round, adding a bit more booty shaking.
The traumatized screams of Gman shall echo through the woods for hours and hours, a testament to the power of torture by marecarena.
To the west though, the worst of torments is being given unto Team Starforce; Indeed one could it say is one of the most terrible things possible. Trapped in a fork lined pit, wings glued by taffy to their bodies, the poor Griffins can only listen in terror as two turkeys argue over the most obnoxious of topics.
Gala, Gobo, Goda, and Gouda try to shut out the shrill voices of the glasses wearing turkey twins above. But no matter how much taffy they stuff in their ears, or how loud they screech, or how tight they huddle into shivering fetal positions; they can’t make it stop.
“I’m telling you that the equations behind the incident are inherently flawed, it’s obvious Lan shot first.” Says Trobo The Turkey, sniffling a bit as he sneers at his twin brother Trollo.
“And I’m telling you that it’s impossible for that to have happened. It’s obvious that Hreela shot first, you are wrong brother.”
Trobo shrieks in a whiny voice, “I am not! After all I was right concerning the potential threat level of the Featherprise versus the Fowldelous. Feathergate is obviously the superior series.”
Trollo growls in a gurgling manner, “Feather Trek was the original, Feathergate SP1 is a comedic copy nothing more.”
Trobo waddles up to his brother, seething in fury. “This means war brother, I cannot let you insult Feathergate and get away with it.”
Trollo grins eagerly, “Very well brother, same rules and same game as last time?”
Trobo nods, his gangly little turkey wattle jiggling along.
“Fifty six straight games of theoretical physics and top geek trivia, in stereo.”
Trollo fist wings his brother, “It’s on! May the better glorgnock win!”
Within the pit the Griffins stare at each other in tears, a mere look between them shares a communal thought. They are simply not sure their sanity will survive this day.
Gouda puts a taloned limb around Goda and says in a whimpering voice, “Man, if we don’t make it out of here sane I just want you to know..I love you man!”
Goda grabs Gouda and hugs him, sobbing in agony due to the sounds of super geek turkeys beginning their competition above in stereo surround sound making said competition very easy to hear.
“I love you too man, and I want you to know something too.”
Gouda breaks the hug and asks, “What is it man?”
Goda dramatically poses before crying out, “I slept with your sister last week!”
Gouda’s expression turns to one of terror, “Oh no man, I’m so sorry for you.”
Goda clutches his knees, rocking back and forth in the fetal position as he continues to talk. “Did you know about the..the..tentacles?”
Gouda sits by Goda, also in a fetal position as the trauma of his sister’s secret sets in. “Yeah, mom says it was due to the green brothers experimenting on her when she was pregnant with my sis. I don’t know though, I mean my little bro is green and he doesn’t have..those.”
Goda shudders, and the two Griffins with similar names just suffer in silence as their sanity slips away. On the other side of the pit Gobo is curled up and mumbling about his happy place and magical crocodiles and fluff balls.
Gala on the other hand has molded bits of taffy into a nautical outfit and is wielding a fork like a sword.
“Avast me swabbies,there be a ship off the port bow. Ready the canons, batton down the hatches, prepare the whisk..”
The rather mad pirate griffin is knocked out cold by a rather heavy fork shaped rock from above.
“Shut up! We are trying to out geek each other up here!” Trobo shrieks, having been the one who wielded the mighty pronged vestige of forkfoolery upon the rather kooky pirate wanna be griffin.
Trollo nods in assent, “Some prisoners we got stuck with. They can’t even go crazy the right way. Now what is the next topic brother?”
Trobo chortles, “Best Feather Trek Captain.”
From within the pit Gouda and Goda let out a combined and agonized, “NOOO!” as the torture continues.
Gilda’s Hunt Area
In the rather unsettling and oddly not horrible section of the Thankful Forest, Gilda and her team continue along unaware of the horrible things going on in the main woods. Somehow avoiding traps and pitfalls, the local relay station has no choice but to call home base.
The Shrine of Tom, Thankful Forest
The Great Tom who is quite simply really Not Discord in a turkey suit picks up the ham radio and listens to the operator explain the situation.
“I see, able to avoid traps. Seemingly blessed by an unknown force. Wait, she has what shade of pink on her talons! Alright, yes my faithful fellow I shall use my powers to aid you. Just, stay in the relay station and don’t leave till I tell you to.”
Putting the radio down, The Great Tom taps his feather fingers together, his off color eyes glancing about at random plans on the walls of the shrine.
“Cotton candy clouds, done it. Chocolate rain, nope. Magical mocha mudslide, nah. Oh, what is this!”
Waving a somewhat unusual eagle claw he levitates a piece of paper off the wall, reading the backup plan titled Z as his face takes on a quite devilish grin. Complete with curling eyebrows.
“Oh yes, I have not done this one yet. Celly is going to kill me when she finds out.”
Pausing for a moment as if to reconsider this plan of action, the Great Tom merely shrugs.
“Eh, she is going to kill me for this anyway. Bring on the Zombies!”
With that the Great Tom who is seriously Not Discord snaps his fingers, triggering a wave of chaos magic to ripple across the Thankful Forest and towards the location where Gilda and team Bad Secrets are searching for the Turkeys that are watching them from safely within relay stumps.
The ground beneath them begins to shake, as Gilda grumbles, “ Ugh, right now I’d go for anything to make this hunt less lame!”
Watching from afar on his rock candy screen, The Great Tom, lord of chaos grins. “Be careful what you wish for Gilda.” He says before breaking out into a fit of gleeful giggles.