Turkey Lurkey - And How!

Hi there readers. This is my first contribution to Literotica and I want to put this in the Winter Holidays Story Contest 2023. It is a piece that I wrote about 13 years ago for the amusement of our friends, about an incident that happened twenty years previously. Believe it or not, what follows is TRUE!! Have a laugh and enjoy!! Constructive feedback will be enjoyed.

I have been good friends for many years with a man named Laurie, who built, started and ran a well-known restaurant called Henry Africa's here in Christchurch, New Zealand for many years. Next door, he built a very popular and cosy little wine bar known as Jane's, which was very popular with the females of our species, and therefore very popular with the males of our species! Tarzan's Bar was upstairs above the restaurant.

For several years at Christmas I had been cooking a fantastic turkey recipe with nearly 50 ingredients in it, known as The Morton Thompson Turkey, which I got from my copy of Pierre and Janet Berton's Canadian Food Guide, and originated in 1947 by the American novelist and columnist, Morton Thompson. Prepared properly, it is an unbelievable-tasting turkey, and even people who say they don't like turkey will fall all over themselves to get a second helping of this one.

Coming up to Christmas 1990, Laurie decided that he knew a lot of people, mostly single, divorced, etc who were going to be at a loose end on Christmas Day, so being the very generous and gregarious chap that he is, he suggested having a party at his home. There were around 25 or 30 people invited to this shindig, and I volunteered my services to cook the Morton Thompson Turkey, which I had cooked in the past at Henry Africa's for their "Mid-Winter Christmas Dinner", a bit of a strange Australasian tradition held around July or August, because that's when mid-winter IS in the Southern Hemisphere! The problem on Christmas Day was going to be that the oven at Laurie's home was going to be used to cook the ham and leg of lamb, so there was no room for the turkey. Laurie's son Scott and I said we would cook it in the big commercial oven at Henry Africa's and bring it home piping hot for dinner in the early evening.

Christmas morning rolled around, and Scott and I made our intrepid way down to Henry's with our passenger, by this time dubbed Sir Thomas De Turkey. We formally knighted the turkey using a samurai sword - is that legal? Apologies to the Queen. Sir Tom was duly stuffed, coated with the paste cover called for in the recipe, and banged in the oven. Readers should understand at this stage that this turkey must be basted EVERY 15 MINUTES. It was early afternoon at this stage. We set the timer for 15 minutes and wondered what to do with all the time we had on our hands between bastings. We overcame that problem, not by hanging around the kitchen waiting for the timer to go off, but by taking the timer with us through the connecting door into Jane's Wine Bar. In there, for the next 5 hours or so, we not only basted the turkey every 15 minutes as required, but managed to "baste" ourselves pretty well too (at Laurie's expense)! We had a glorious time, talking and joking and drinking. I was on Navy Rum (the drink of the South Seas), and Scotty was drinking Depth Charges - a vicious concoction of a pint of draught beer with a double-shot glass of Drambuie dropped into it. They're called Depth Charges because when they hit you, you sink pretty fast!

Finally, in the late afternoon Sir Tom was cooked to his scrumptious best, and we decided to head home to Laurie's. By this time, neither of us was fit to drive, we would have been lucky to find the car! So we called the local taxi company and told them to send someone with a mini-van, because we had a third passenger that was quite large (about 9 kilograms) and VERY hot! The taxi took us back to Laurie's to thunderous applause from the starving multitude. All the way home the taxi driver kept saying how wonderful the turkey smelled, so we invited him in for dinner. He signed-off duty and finally left the party about midnight! Had a wonderful time!

The party roared on until the early hours of the morning of Boxing Day, and several people just crashed all over the house in beds or couches or the floor wherever they happened to find themselves. In the morning we went looking for the turkey carcass and bones, because we were going to use it to make a soup stock. We couldn't find it and assumed that someone had chucked it into the garbage. So that was the end of that.........or so we thought.

About mid-April 1991, I was in Jane's holding up my end of the bar, when Laurie came in, being the good proprietor that he is. The weather had been very warm for April, and Laurie told me that the day before he had been out mowing his extensive lawn and got very thirsty.

Laurie had three fridges in his house, two up in the kitchen and one in the garage where his sons used to store their beer. He went to the boys fridge to see if they had any beer in there, opened the door, slammed it shut immediately, and screamed "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT???!!!"

I said "What was it??"

He then said "I opened the door again to see what it was - it was that fucking turkey!!!"

I played dumb and asked "Which turkey???"

He said "The one from bloody Christmas Day!!!" I fell on the floor, holding my abdomen, kicking my legs in the air, screaming with laughter!

When I gathered my senses enough I said "Was it coming out the door to meet you?"

He said "You should have seen the inside of the fridge - it was varying shades of olive gray/green. It took me ages to clean it, had to use the waterblaster! And the boys have been putting their beer in there for the last three and a half months, and done nothing about it!! I was ready to kill'em with my bare hands!"

Twenty years later, I had Christmas Day and dinner with my good mates Laurie and Scotty and their family and friends. We still laughed about TURKEY LURKEY!!!