Donald was a bird with a great deal of self-loathing. He was possessed of a singularly short temper and this along with his abiding incompetence caused him to move from job to job regularly, making for a less than stable home for himself and his nephews. Out of this morass of discontent and to fill the void in his soul, came an eager desire to make holidays especially fanciful affairs in keeping with the mythology of each. This was particularly true when it came to Thanksgiving. Donald craved turkey, a bizarre enough desire given his own fowl heritage, but nonetheless he wanted nothing more on the grand American holiday than a resplendent turkey dinner with all the fixings. But sadly his inept habits often got in the way.
To overcome his incapacity to slay a turkey in the traditional manner, he would sometimes utilize bizarre techniques which smacked of extreme overkill. Always his desire to bring the turkey to bay with an axe was paramount in his increasingly disturbed search for holiday contentment.
His strange habits became the butt of jokes among his family, especially his nephews who derided him with elaborate faux tableaus portraying his lack of hunting acumen. This drove Donald into a rage of staggering proportions, even beyond his normal daily fury.
After many long, long months of cold and calculated planning, he waylaid his nephews at last and made a bizarre ritual complete with antique props, of their grisly slayings. Their deaths at last fulfilled his dark and insidious compulsion to consume his own kind. He at last found in his own nightmarish and depraved fashion the holiday pleasure he'd been seeking all these years. At long last Donald found he was happy on Thanksgiving, and as he sharpened his trusty axe, he was thankful for the many Thanksgivings to come.
Have a Happy Thanksgiving!
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