Of course, if we’d gone this route, we might have found ourselves stuffing soggy bread into defrosted bald eagles every November.

Thanksgiving is arguably more American than Independence Day. What were we fighting for, if not our right to blast a wild turkey with a shotgun (or, you know, buy a frozen one at Kroger), deep-fry that sonofabitch, then consume it with a variety of butter-logged, marshmallow-oozing side dishes before passing out in the living room with football playing quietly on the TV?

In case you are the first one to wake up from your tryptophan coma, or if you’re just holed up in the guest bathroom, taking a break from the family togetherness in the only place where you can get some peace and qui—FOR ODIN’S SAKE, STOP JIGGLING THE HANDLE; THERE’S CLEARLY SOMEONE IN HERE.

As we were saying, we have some recommended Turkey Day reading for you. First up is Eirik Gumeny’s “Almost Every November,” in which the Thanksgiving tables are turned when a few genetically modified birds take matters into their own artificially-prehensile feathers. Then there’s Stephen Schwegler’s “Chinese Take-Out,” in which a group of humans holed up in a shopping center after a massive wild turkey uprising find a way to celebrate the holidays. And you can’t go wrong with any of our Pushcart Prize Nominees for this year.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.