Sunday, December 20, 2015

Always Trust the Goats

The turkeys lined up in battle formation. They had risen up against the oppression of the geese from across the sea. The turkeys had greeted the geese with open wings, but over time the geese had started attacking and taking the lands of the turkeys. It was not fair to blame all geese, but turkeys could not abide the white geese any longer.

The great gobble of war had gone out. Both sides had won and lost. No side had a decisive edge. Neither side had quacked in their determination. Both were in it for the long flight. The geese felt the turkeys didn't have the staying power. The turkeys didn't think the geese would bother gander what was really going on and thought the turkeys gobble up the geese's nests.

It turned out the geese were right. The geese really didn't look around or pay attention to what was really going on in the greater world. They'd even hired canine mercenaries and that decision would dog them: the greater world was not pleased by this. However, the turkey nation was exhausted and war would soon be over unless they crushed the geese. It was now or never. Do or die. Gobble or be drumsticks.

Here and now, the turkeys rolled the die. Here they stood. Rank upon rank. The last stand of the nation.

Benjamin Tarmagin, colonel of the feather flock, stood with his avian army. He was commanding but one small part. However, it would crucial they stand their ground this time. And this time they did.

The battle unfolded and it was not going well. The dogs of war tore through ranks even as the turkeys slashed their talons. The geese marched forward, clashing and killing with their weaponized beaks and long necks.

Pressed in on all sides, the turkey defeat was near. Until...until...a great noise swept the field. The generals of both sides were the only ones to notice: every bird or canine was fighting for their lives.


Then there was sound like thunder and the massive line crashed into the flank of geese, butting them to the ground. The dogs yelped and sprinted away, tails between their legs.

Benjamin Tarmagin said, turning to his friend and companion, Captain Capra Verata, "Trust the goats."

Verata looked back with his oddly shaped eyes, "You should always trust the goats."

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