Deepshell is back, here to blow the whistle on another shady holiday tradition. I have for years wondered why every year people go crazy trying to cook a huge lot of food, invite everyone they know over to eat it, and seem so stressed out. As a child and into adulthood I believed the simple facts I was given. We cook a huge meal to celebrate the first meal between the Pilgrims and the Native Americans, we invite everyone over to carry on the tradition of peace and family. I accepted this as truth, as we all did. Well, Deepshell did some research and dug up a conspiracy that has been hidden from us for centuries. Today, I’m here to expose the truth behind Thanksgiving and why we must continue to uphold this tradition no matter the cost.
To fully expose the truth, we have to start at the beginning. We have to start with the Mayans. Mayans began their rise to power in 1800 B.C., they were leaders in agriculture, mathematics, and religion. Somewhere around the ninth century, Mayan civilizations started to mysteriously vanish. One by one, the population went on a steady decline, until eventually, the Mayans vanished all together. This disappearance is what set The Turtle on a path that would eventually lead to a terrible truth about a beloved holiday. As I would soon learn, the Mayans had stumbled upon the great art of what is now known as Voodoo. Voodoo was not the only thing these people studied, they found the dark arts as well and within those arts, found a way to ensure their survival until the end of time.
In the ninth century, Mayans were on the brink of destruction. War with rival lands had damaged trade relations, over farming the land had cause natural resources to run dry. Mayan leaders knew their days were numbered. The Mayans were desperate for a solution, having exhausted all scientific options they turned to the dark art of voodoo. It was there they discovered an ancient spell that would allow them to force their souls into the body of an animal. They could put their souls into these animal hosts and escape the wars they had started and begin anew in a distant land. They just needed the right animal. Something strong, resilient, and most importantly, underestimated. After a time they settled on a native bird that we now know as the turkey. This bird was cunning, built to last in almost all conditions, and assumed to be the dumbest animal known at the time. The Mayans had found their vessel.
The details of the ritual used to insert their souls into the turkey is completely unknow. What we do know, is that the Mayans succeeded. The rest of the world assumed that famine and war was killing Mayan civilization, little did they know, the Mayans were all taking on their new animal forms, leading to a spike in turkey population. Once the Mayans were completely transformed, they waited. They watched as lands developed, wars unfolded, they waited for the perfect land and the perfect opportunity.
Centuries later, the pilgrims offered them the exact opening they had been waiting for. The Mayans, saw a mass exodus to a new world. The thought of a completely undeveloped land, was too good for The Mayans to ignore. They began to migrate, from Mexico to what is now North America. No one noticed the unassuming turkey, leaving and moving north, no one questioned why. The Mayans plan was working perfectly.
The Mayans reached this new world shortly after pilgrims had landed. There, they found not one, but two groups of people they had never encountered before. The Pilgrims and the Native Americans. The Mayans were shocked to find these two uniquely different people working in perfect harmony. They learned from one another, farmed the land, and began to build a true utopia. The Mayans knew they would have to act fast if they were to usurp this new land from them. They began to work in the cover of night. They came together after sundown and broke off into two teams. One team would go into the Natives’ camp and cast a spell on their sleeping blankets that would cause a disease to eat away at the unsuspecting Natives. This would later be called small pox. Meanwhile, the other group was tasked with something more grisly. The second Mayan group would sneak into the Pilgrims camp and rake a single talon across their scalp, removing the top of the head. This continued for many nights, the Mayans created suspicion and conflict between the Natives and the Pilgrims. Soon, the two groups began to war with one another, small skirmishes broke out where there was once farm land. Finally, when the conflict had reached it’s height, the Mayans sprang from the shadows and launched an all out attack.
For years, the Natives and the Pilgrims lived in fear of the turkey over lords. No longer could they farm and thrive, they were forced out into the wilds, where many would succumb to mother nature’s icy winter grasp. The Mayans would hunt these groups relentlessly. Not a day would pass without the feathered warriors claiming more victims. The Natives and the Pilgrims knew they had to do something or they would be wiped out entirely. The solution was found on a desperate October day in 1602. The frost had begun to settle in, the desperate survivors were out of food, and options. The Mayans had cornered them, and would be moving in to eradicate them any day. While out foraging for food, a Native and Pilgrim came across a Mayan scout, hiding in the bushes, he had been wounded by a wild animal and could not make an escape. They made the decison to bring him back to the camp. It was back at camp, starving and desperate for an answer to the Turkey demons, the survivors decided they would pluck the feathers from the captured scout, and put him, alive, on a stake outside. The survivors would lie in wait for the Mayans and would launch a final desperate attack. The Mayans arrived a few hours before the sun began to set. They came upon the horrible sight of a comrade, still writhing in agony from the tortures endured. It was when the Mayans paused and gawked at the sight that the survivors attacked!
What followed was one of the bloodiest battles of all time, both sides suffered severe casualties. The survivors, however, against all odds, triumphed over the Mayans. That night they held a victory feast, with only corn, nuts, and berries. They needed a meat to properly celebrate. Through numerous debates, they decided they would eat the fallen warriors of the Mayans. They plucked and roasted hundreds of Mayan soldiers, devouring them like kings well into the morning.
To this day, we continue to battle the feathered devils that used to be the Mayans, we engage in a horrible feast that borders on cannibalism, to remember the sacrifice given for us to settle in this new world. We invite all of our loved ones to join us because we know that the Turkey Mayans could rise any day and try to take back what they lost. The stress is a natural response to the horrors of what we do, every year to keep the Mayan numbers down. It is a disturbing tradition, but one that must never go unfulfilled. If the Mayans were to ever rise up again, we would be overrun by their feathered hordes. So the next time you see a gaggle of turkeys standing in the middle of the road, do not slow down, hit the gas and run them down. Whenever you complain about the stress the holidays bring, remember, this is necessary to our very survival and, like our ancestors, must do whatever it takes to ensure our survival.
The Turtle has blown the whistle on this gruesome tale, and rather than leave you with words of advice and wisdom, I leave you with words of encouragement. This year, eat more than your fair share of turkey, buy not one but two or even three. Do everything you can to ensure that the Mayans never rise back to power.
Are you Mayan? Got a problem with The Turtle ruining your holiday? Puke your comments into the box below and tell it to the fucking turtle.