[in reference to turkey bowling] He [Tommy] squinted and picked his target, then took his steps and sent the bird sliding down the aisle. A collective gasp rose from the crew as the fourteen-pound, self-basting, fresh-frozen projectile of wholesome savory goodness plowed into the soap bottles like a freight train into a chorus line of drunken grandmothers.
Christopher Moore. . . You seem upset, Charlie. Is something wrong? Charlie: No, no, Iโm okay, I just had to take directions from a mute beaver in a fez to get here, itโs unsettling.
Christopher Moore