[[This was posted to Twitter by BakuraRyou, aka Yami Bakura. It is the story of the REAL first thanksgiving, as told by Bakura. Enjoy.]]

It was November of 1776. Dartz and I were the only ones around at the time. We were walking down the streets of Pennsylvania, nonchalantly, talking about how best to torture the people around us. The sun was just going down, and people were running as fast as they could indoors. I sighed heavily and asked Dartz if we should stay and risk it, or head inside somewhere. We decided to risk it and continue about our business.


At about 8:23 pm, the ground shook and an earsplitting cry resonated in the air. We stopped and spun on our heels to look behind us. The loud screech behind us was the unmistakable sound of Zorkeefer. The evil turkey overlord of this town.


I looked at Dartz seriously, and he nodded. I took out two of the knives I have on me at all times, and handed him one. I then took out my cutlass, just in case. 
We charged at the giant turkey, who had blood dripping from his sharp beak. His cruel and cold eyes fixed on us, following every move. He, too, began to charge us.


We collided and attacked. I slashed at his face and neck, Dartz at his abdomen. The giant turkey screeched and swiped at us with his talon like feet. I took a blow to the stomach and began to bleed furiously, but I ignored it and knew we had to keep stabbing. 
Suddenly the turkey stopped and stood still. I took my knife and plunged it hard into his face, right between the eyes. I yanked it back out and shook off the brains, and the turkey fell over, dead.


As a precaution, I also sliced open his stomach.



The people of the town who had been watching from indoors let out a roar of cheers, and rushed out to us. I smirked and they rushed both of us, lifting us on their shoulders. I was cutting people left and right until they set me down. They carried Dartz away and I didn't see him until the next night.



The next night, Zorkeefer was roasted and set on a giant table. His blood was mixed with cranberries to make cranberry sauce, his organs mashed up to make a potato like substance, and his brain liquified to make wine for the occasion. His heart had been baked into a lovely apple pie.



To this day, we eat a turkey at thanksgiving to give thanks for the defeat of our evil turkey overlords, and to help keep down their numbers.


It's also like a giant middle finger to them.



So as you're enjoying your lovely thanksgiving dinner, just remember, you're lucky. In 1776, the turkey would be the one eating YOU.



-Bakura