Holidays in a Brave New World

It was November, approaching Thanksgiving, and I was preparing the perimeter for the annual assault on our compound by vengeful turkeys, out to avenge their slaughtered brethren. I was careful to ensure that I scrambled the landmine pattern from what it had been last year, having learned the hard way that wild turkeys, unlike their captive comrades, were extremely intelligent creatures and could map a minefield based on last years experience. We lost Grandpa that year, and his death was horrible, having been caught without his shotgun as he made his way to the outhouse.
We really looked forward to eating that 27 pound beauty we had managed to get through the front lines, along with the mashed potatoes, yams, and stuffing. The yams rarely put up much of a fight this time of year, being somewhat sluggish from the lower temperatures. We hoped the extra sound proofing we'd installed for this years festivities would muffle the gobble-gobbles of outrage that usually accompanied our Thanksgiving feast. Turkeys are such pathetic losers. If God had meant them not to be eaten, he would have equipped them better to defend themselves, instead of with those lame crossbows that they had learned to use recently.
As I randomly dug the holes to place the mines, I was already thinking about Christmas, about the strike the elves had called on Santa up at the North Pole since he sold out to Walmart. Somehow, Walmart had talked the Navy into smuggling scabs under the polar icecap, and those scumbag chimpanzees they had genetically altered to work in the toy factory were putting out the garbage left and right, promising low, low prices for strapped parents everywhere, thus insuring more and more poor children something resembling a Christmas. The elves were not taking this laying down, though, no siree! With some SAM missiles they had gotten on the black market, they had already scored some pretty scary near misses on Santa's new Airbus Goliath freight jet, especially adapted to fire bags of toys down chimneys as it swept back and forth over the land at near supersonic speeds. I knew it was only a matter of time before the administration labeled those freaky little terrorists for what they were, and send troops into Canada to take out their little asses.
Halloween had already proven to be a horror as trick or treaters had begun to take the idea of tricks to a whole new level, what with the breakdown in social order caused by overworked parents. More than one house had gotten an RPG thru the front door for not answering the doorbell promptly enough. And the kids were no longer satisfied with the old fare of candy and fruit. If you didn't cough up some impressive BLING, you might get your wife or daughter dragged away into the night until you got into the spirit of halloween giving. The real witches, though, who had brazenly come out of the closet recently, rarely were given any shit, for the voodoo they could do your butt wasn't in the least bit funny. Some were even demanding a percentage of the neighborhood take in return for not increasing the local toad population. All in all Halloween remained a vibrant and exciting time of year.
Back to the matter of the turkeys, I could detect a few glints of reflected sunlight off the binoculars those turkeys were using in the safety of the surrounding woods, reconnoitering the property for their evening assault. Good luck, assholes, you know we humans don't mind a few extra pounds of giblets to go with Thanksgiving dinner!