By Crystal Lu
During this time of tumultuous chaos, the one reliable bastion of normality for many people is the infamous Klein turkey. Frequently gracing her presence at the intersection of Klein and Paradise during the day, the turkey, affectionately known as Fred, or Tom by some less reliable sources, has been noted to be almost supernatural in her longevity and her power to withstand several supposed deaths.
Every so often, a rumor goes around that the Amherst Animal Control Officer Team (AACOT) has kidnapped Fred to be relocated or put down, and every so often, almost the entirety of the school goes up in protest against rumors that may or may not be true. It’s strange then, upon thinking deeply about it, how Fred has captured our hearts so thoroughly. Having given the matter much thought, the only reasonable conclusion I can come up with is that Fred the turkey is actually the second coming of Jesus Christ.
Bear with me, please. At this point, you must be in shock that I, a supposedly rational and somewhat sane student, would make such a ridiculous assumption — your words, not mine — but owl assure you, reader, I know what I’m talking about. How has Fred miraculously escaped the jaws of death and the pinchy claw (?) of animal control on so many separate occasions? I’m not questioning the competence of the AACOT (though at this point, some would) but seriously, have you ever taken the time to think about it? We have this seemingly normal turkey haunting one of the busiest intersections especially at 7:30 in the morning and during the afternoon when people are bound to complain. Are you suggesting to me that the citizens of East Amherst, some with serious political clout, have not called the AACOT to remove Fred?
Junior Sharan Prasad claims, “Fred stops people from speeding on Paradise,” presumably giving the AACOT the benefit of the doubt. One must consider the possibility in this scenario, of course, that perhaps the Amherst Animal Control Officer Team has tried repeatedly to take Fred away, but she resisted with the force of her power and abilities as the next reincarnation of the son of God. Cynthia Cheng, bassist for the Symphony Orchestra at East, said, “I heard they [the AACOT] relocated him [sic], but they didn’t move him [sic] far so he came back.” Given the fact that turkeys can accurately recall areas over 1000 acres in size, according to the animal education charity OneKindPlanet, Fred’s return may be chalked up to innate turkey abilities, but it seems more likely that the turkey is Jesus. Bear with me.
Speaking to Grace Yao, a junior, on one crisp yet sunny Friday morning, I off-handedly asked her if she had any encounters with Fred, the turkey. Turning to face me with wide eyes, she asked me solemnly how I knew. I was confused. How did I know what? What dark secrets and poultry skeletons were Grace hiding in her closet? Did she start to realize, like I had, that Fred was actually Jesus? Anticipation was building within me—perhaps someone else had stumbled upon my revelation too—as we walked down the green stairway, Grace started telling me her long, sordid story of Fred and brutal woe accompanied with murder most fowl.
“Wow, the Klein turkey is Christ,” Grace muttered to herself as we were walking, clearly trying to reconcile herself with the truth. “But, I mean, that makes sense. Because once my mom was driving me to school, and Fred was blocking the road …” Stopping in the middle of the stairs, she earned the disapproving glares and mutters of her fellow classmates, but Grace was obviously reliving a traumatic memory.
Pulling me aside at the bottom of the stairs, she murmured the rest of her story in a haunted voice, “… and I’m pretty sure my mom drove over it.” I was shocked. Not only had I found a firsthand witness to Fred’s remarkable resurrective abilities, but she also was a firsthand witness to her death.
Later, as I was trying to confirm her story with her over text message, Grace added some very key details. “The time my mom was drove [sic] over the turkey, first he walked out in front of the car. We were blocked so and couldn’t go forwards, but the cars behind us started honking and swerving all around us. We were all getting agitated, and understandably so. After a bit mom was like, ‘I have to go forwards’, and I warned her not to, but she insisted and started to accelerate. I started yelling at her. I was screaming. Like ‘NO YOU CAN’T DRIVE OVER HIM [sic] STOP DON’T DO IT STOP THE CAR.’” (Editor’s Note: Even during the retelling, Grace was screaming at the top of her lungs. It is obvious she is passionate about this possible second coming of the Messiah. )
A pause.
“Afterwards I was kind of in shock because I was scared that we just killed the infamous Klein turkey, but we went over him [sic] and [s]he’s still alive.” In one fowl swoop, Grace has provided overwhelming evidence for Fred’s undeniable holiness. It’s hard to refute the fact that Fred had and still has mystical powers that allowed her to escape near death experiences like Grace’s harrowing account of turkey-cide. For all of us rational people, it’s clear now that the only rational answer is that Fred is Jesus Christ.
At this point, even if you’re a cold skeptic atheist, little niggles of doubt have started creeping inside your mind. Oh my gosh, you think to yourself, I can’t believe Fred is actually Jesus Christ! All of those times I shouted obscenities at her, and it turns out she died for my sins. She’s quite literally died too. Repent. Given her otherworldly heritage, it’s not surprising that Fred has such a loyal following within the school, as we are all her disciples, as she leads us into eternal light.
Cynthia said, “[S]he stands fearlessly in the way of everyone, representing the true American spirit.” Other students echo her thoughts. Adding to his previous statement, Sharan fervently claims, “Seeing Fred every morning gives me motivation to wake up and go to school.” Stephen Zheng, firm supporter of the turkey, believes, “Klein turkey — best turkey.” When later approached, Stephen had completely converted. “I used to be an atheist, but after I saw the irrefutable proof that Jesus Christ himself is back as the turkey, I converted to turkey-anity,” he earnestly told me. His zealous convictions, as odd as they may seem to a close-minded unbeliever, are quite logical when considered from a poulutri-fied point of view.
Some students aren’t such steadfast supporters of Fred, but they still like her. Why? Maybe it’s because they sense something godly about Fred and are reluctant fans of the divisive turkeys. An unnamed source, calling herself hoot, would prefer to keep her privacy, thinks of it like this: “I love Fred, but [s]he keeps pecking at tires and I am afraid I will run him [sic] over.” Although Fred may have caused some damage pecking cars, is it possible that all she wants is attention, to spread her gobbling gospel to the masses? It must be hard for Jesus to be stuck in a turkey’s body with no way of reaching humans, most other turkeys are probably uninterested in eternal salvation anyway. No doubt she has tried to convert all the turkeys she could find, but the intersection of Paradise and Klein provides the perfect soapbox, if not for the multiple speeding vehicles continuously passing through. Even though Fred causes my anonymous source an undue amount of stress in the morning, it’s quite remarkable that she still retains affection for the turkey.
Jessica Meng, a senior, isn’t so sure about the divinity of Fred, but still holds him in a dear place in her heart. “I’m very scared for it [sic] because he’s too dumb to move out of the way,” she said No worries, Jessica, Fred will simply resurrect should she find herself in mortal danger. On the extreme end of the spectrum, Ann Wang, a senior, thinks Fred is simply the best. “Can I marry the turkey?” she asked, quite seriously. After learning the truth about Fred’s divinity, Orko Sinha, the former (Editor’s slightly panicked note: Wait, former? Orko? ORKO?!) Webmaster for the East Side Paper, was disappointed, saying, “I guess I have to abandon my plans of eating it. I don’t want to be compared to the Romans.”
Other people aren’t so kind to Fred. Zach Gelfond, a junior at Williamsville East, thinks of the turkey as a bird-brain. At first, when asked for a quote about the turkey, he refused to give a quote, but later relented. “The turkey causes traffic each morning. It should be shot and served for lunch in the Commons. Don’t quote me on this,” he said. How anyone could express such violence for an innocent and obviously divine turkey is beyond my scope of comprehension. Just like Jesus faced strong opposition from unbelievers, Fred is similarly persecuted. She shall rise above this hate, and save the haters from their sins, as Jesus once did.
Even though I think my theory of Fred being Jesus is perfectly based in reason and the best explanation for her mystical powers, some people have other ideas. My anonymous source from earlier quite excitedly texted me, “Maybe he’s [sic] actually a CLONE THE TURKEYS ARE CLONES THERES [sic] NO WAY THEY HAVENT [sic] BEEN RUN OVER YET.” To this, I must cry fowl. Just think for a second how absolutely ludicrous that sounds. An army of clones? That sounds more like the raven-ings of a lunatic than a plausible theory. The anonymous source’s theory is completely absurd — almost as absurd as the news that the school administration isn’t getting rid of class rank for this year’s juniors.
Although you may have started reading this article with an incredulous mind, I hope you came out of it with a new perspective. If you believe as firmly as I do that Fred the Klein turkey is the reincarnation of Jesus Christ, please tell all your friends and families. Heck, not even just friends and families. I urge you all, go door to door and make sure that everyone knows the Gospel of Fred, which is soon to be written. The One True Turkey shall not be denied. You have seen his power, his immense amounts of virtue and valor. So flock to support him, my friends. You shall surely be rewarded eternally.
