megan wrote:Bochan Mor wrote:
Is that not just damnedable. For long enough he was like the Scarlet Pimpernel. They seeked him here and seeked him there, and up until now his identity has remained a well kept secret.
Maybe some piper set a honey trap for him: Luring him with a few grains of corn and a fresh-cream pancake to a darkened cave. Once cornered he probably blasted him full force with his big drones till the poor bird expired rather than listen anymore to the screaming durge.
Has he been executed yet, or is there still time for our folk-hero to escape the guillotine?
Will we ever know the truth?
Long Live bubbly.............Freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeedom for Turkeys!
Never thought I'd see myself teamed up with a Bochan... didn't even know what one was before, being from the Southwest. (We do have horrible skinwalkers here in New Mexico- might enlist a couple for the cause) What a looooong dreary season without the turkey!
I always likened Bubbly to Zorro! He resurfaces punctually for a good cause, sword in hand, slashing away with humour.
Ach ma lassie, blessed are the meek for they will inherit the herrin, is that not whit they say? All these years on this earth and you've never come across a bochan.
Did you never reach 'The Spoot Wood', or the Lower Avenue when you were young? You must have been to the 'Maidens Plantin,' or maybe that was your mother?
One thing's for sure, the poor turkey couldn't have got into this mess without assistance. No, they've all contributed to his untimely ending, baiting him with their flammable references to colourful people and debatable events. The worst offender has to be thon Wet-behind-the-ears fella from Muasdale, followed closely by the decapitated horseman. The bochan must have turned Queen's evidence, as he still seems to be wandering free.
Then there's Morenish & 4th Gen Soothend. Being fermers, they don't need to go C.A.P. in hand to anyone. This was like a red rag to a turkey stag, with none of the brussel sprout money going on improvements to the turkey trot or the chicken run. Naw, he jeest couldn't help himself....
That rascal ‘The P’ was a devel for leading the poor brute up the garden path, as was Malarky. They calculated jeest how much corn to throw and in what direction. In he would innocently rush, unable to hold back on expressing his opinion, and who could deny him that right. The scoundrels would then turn the other way, pull their admin masks on, pop back up with their shotguns and shout FOWL! Sanyanya was probably despatched with the sack to remove any trace of the dirty deed.
Well Auld Pop's right. All of us come to the end of the road at some point or other, but the thread will be a much poorer cyber-place without the irreverent Turkey!
I fear that with thanksgiving now past over the pond, the doodle dandies will wane in their ardour for the site, especially as it could be back to cauld clothes & porridge from this point on.
bubbly jock...........COME BACK!
