A Sore Subject

Turkey: Oh… hey, Eagle. What’s up?

Eagle: Not much, how have you been? I haven’t seen you in at least three hundred years, my fair-feathered brethren.

[Turkey self-consciously strokes his wattle.]

Turkey: Ha. I know, right? I’ve been ca-razy busy with my new part-time j-o-b.

Eagle: Yeah, well I hope there’s no tension between us anymore, Turkey.

Turkey: No, we’re cool.

Eagle: Are you sure? It was pretty awkward there for a while. I’m sure the divorce didn’t help, but—

Turkey: I’m beginning to regain custody of them, so thanks for that.

Eagle: I’m not trying to ruffle your feathers but you must realize that I am the exemplary essence of this great land.

Turkey: Oh, relax. Our little feud died out about thirty years ago. Right around the time your species almost did the same.

Eagle: Real mature.

Turkey: DDT FTW!

Oak Tree: Hahaahahah, zing!

Eagle: Quiet, national tree.

Turkey: Eagle, I heard you got a little flak from Benjamin Franklin. He thought you were a pretty sketchy choice to symbolize this wonderful country.

Eagle: Yes, it turned out people did not instantaneously appreciate my stunning grandiosity. I can’t decide if it was my seven-foot wingspan or powerful talons that eventually won them over.

Turkey: Franklin was always a big fan of me. One time he called me a “bird of courage.” Not a big deal or anything.

Eagle: Whatever. I’d like to see you soar gracefully through the sky, and then spot food hundreds of feet below. Not as easy as it looks, actually.

Turkey: If you’re such a swift and well-built killing machine, why did you end up on the Endangered Species list?

Eagle: I am dreadfully sorry about your family last November. Your parents were so loving.

Turkey: Truce?

Further assistance from The Caldwell Tanner.