Fowl mood: Hickory’s revenge, Part 2
Hickory smiled. “Is that what she said?” He clapped his hands twice. Immediately the Bandit’s wife and son were brought in by the watchdog duo. Hen and Junior looked tired, haggard. His wife was so angry that she couldn’t even look at him, as if her eyes were saying, “I told you so.”
“Hickory, this has got nothing to do with them; this is between you and me,” the Bandit said as he struggled with his restraints.
Farmer Hickory thought for a moment and then shook his head. “See, the thing about letting them go is that I promised my wife a fine turkey dinner, and that’s exactly what she’s going to get.”
The farmer raised a large knife from the table. Hen and Junior shuddered with fear. The watchdogs held them tight. The Bandit struggled more forcefully against the ropes, but they didn’t budge.
A ping against the window. “Don’t do this,” the Bandit pleaded.
“Who’s going to go first?” A louder ping against the window.
Hickory noticed it, too, and crossed quickly to the door.
Outside was a sea of turkeys as far as the eye could see. The flocks were swarming the lights and heading toward the house, the Bandit’s partner, Jack, at the helm as he directed the crowd to tear the farm apart.
Hickory was flabbergasted.
“I can stop this, Hickory, if you let me and my family go.”
Hickory nodded and sliced the Bandit free.
There was much to say to Hen and Junior, but that could wait until they were safe and sound back home. His family parted the sea of turkeys, and they all marched out of Hickory Farm.