|My loving tribute to my turkey Carlos, savior of Christmas|
If you happened to visit my farm recently you may have noticed and paused to admire this lovely little folk art memorial that I painstakingly constructed as an homage to my beloved turkey, Carlos. It depicts a scene from his glorious Christmas Eve journey (pictured below for comparison), during which he saved Christmas for the town of Farmville and other rural parts of the world.
|Carlos using his radioactive snood to lead Santa and his reindeer on Christmas Eve, 2013|
I had cobbled the monument together from some items I found for sale in the FV2 General Store during the holiday season:
|The raw materials used to construct the sacred Carlos Christmas tribute|
The turkey spool represented Carlos, of course. The wicker goats represented the eight reindeer he led, and the Santa butt sticking out of the chimney represented Santa in his sled. Hey, it was the best I could do on a budget. Don't judge!
As you might imagine, I was very proud of this humble little monument I had built, and everything was all well and good with it for a few weeks. Word of its magnificence began to spread far and wide, and visitors would travel for miles and miles to Korova farms just to witness firsthand the spectacular tribute I had constructed for my beloved turkey.
They would bring their children and elderly relatives, and there would be song and dance and laughter as the families gathered around the festive memorial to pose and take photos. Precious photos of treasured memories, which shall undoubtedly grace countless family photo albums for generations to come, all featuring my sweet, loving Christmas tribute to Carlos.
...But then tragedy struck, as tragedy is wont to do, and it all came to a very abrupt and horrific end.
Alas, I have very sad news to report today, my friends.
It pains me greatly to have to inform you all that my sacred artifact has been unceremoniously desecrated by a grown man from Greece, named Giorgos Fatcat.
Consequently, I have been forced to tear it down and store it away, never again to see the light of day.
For reasons unknown, in a completely unprovoked attack, Mr. Fatcat decided to come to my farm the other day and brutally molest several of the symbolic animals which comprised my lovely commemorative monument!
His motivation for doing so remains a mystery to me. I sent him a photo of what I caught him doing, circling the evidence of his heinous transgressions in red, and I asked him to answer for his actions. Thus far, however, he has completely ignored my request for an explanation.
|To date, there has been no response from Mr. Fatcat.|
Yet he has the unmitigated gall to continue sending me requests for pruning shears and other farm-related sundries.
|You shall receive no further shears from me, you vile beast!|
And so I can only speculate as to his reasons for defiling my sacred homage to Carlos, Christmas, and all that was pure, holy and innocent in the world.
I asked the victims for more information about the assault, but they weren't talking. Apparently whatever this Fatcat did to them was so traumatic that it rendered them all speechless.
|These poor animals were subjected to unspeakable horrors at the hands of Mr. Fatcat|
Unable to get any answers from the assailant or his victims, my mind went rampant pondering the possible reasons for Mr. Fatcat's gross violation.
At first I naively wondered, Was it just some childish prank? Perhaps in Greece they have a tradition of something akin to cow tipping here in America, where instead they push over sleeping goats and turkeys...
|Is goat tipping a Greek thing?|
I guess I was still trying to give him the benefit of the doubt at this point, as next I speculated, Maybe he just thought the animals were hungry and attempted to feed them...
|Had I misconstrued an act of kindness as a wicked atrocity?|
Still trying to rationalize the incident as an innocent mistake or misinterpretation on my part, I wondered, Is it possible that he thought they were piñatas?
|Do they even have piñatas in Greece?|
As I further theorized about the incident, I found that my thoughts increasingly drifted into dark places, assuming the worst.
Maybe, I ruminated, Giorgios fancies himself a master thief and sought to pilfer my decorations to use on his own farm...
|Umm, it doesn't work like that, sir.|
People do odd things sometimes when they've had too much to drink, I told myself, my suppositions growing darker. Perhaps Mr. Fatcat had imbibed too much Ouzo this particular evening, and thought he recognized the animals in question...
|Giorgos is quite the ladies' man.|
Then my thoughts really started racing to the dark side... I recalled in the past hearing of bizarre rumors about certain perversions involving Greek men and goats.
You know the ones.
I perish the thought... Could this have been some deviant erotic attraction?
Normally I try not to put much weight in rumors and stereotypes, but like I said, one's mind goes to dark places in times such as these...
|Oh God, please no|
By the time I had run through all these horrible scenarios, my mind was reeling.
I was in a very bad, angry place.
I have to go confront this sick, twisted goat lover, I thought. I must teach him a lesson.
I immediately hailed the nearest cab...
It was full, but the driver allowed me to sit up front. The nice ladies in back even offered to pay my fare!
|Thanks for the ride Lynn Hubbard, Cathy Perry, Kimberly Curro and Kathy Jones!|
Upon my arrival at Fatcat Farms, Mr. Fatcat greeted me as he would any other visitor, seemingly oblivious to who I was and why I was there.
|Yeah I'll give you a helping alright, pal. A helping of my fist!|
My confrontation did not quite go as expected. I wanted to knock him out, but it seemed that Mr. Fatcat was playing dumb!
Could he have honestly not remembered what he did?
|Oh, so that's how you wanna play it, eh?|
He seemed to think I was there to be his farmhand!
At first I was offended. How could he think I would ever help on his farm after what he did to my poor wicker goats? But then I had an idea...
|Oh yes, I've got some chores to do for you, friend. Chores indeed.|
If I played along I could get onto his farm and exact my revenge. I was sure he must have some farm decorations that I could mess with... Give him a little taste of his own medicine, I would!
I diligently began my farmhand duties in earnest, scouring Fatcat farms for any ways that I could be of assistance. When I came upon this plain-looking flag, I decided to sew a logo onto it that a man like Giorgos could truly appreciate...
|Betsy Ross ain't got nothin' on me!|
Next I cleaned all the algae out of his Bird Bath Fountain...
|Nothing can live in that fountain now!|
Then I upgraded his Fuel Pump for him...
|A few whacks with a wrench is all it took! It's supposed to smoke like that, right?|
I grabbed a roll of paper towels and polished up his Swan Ice Sculpture...
|Uh oh, maybe I polished it too much. The wings are melting off!|
I fluffed up the hay in his Deluxe Shady Trough to make it softer...
|I wonder if this is where Fatcat and his goats spend most of their time. Gross!|
I cleaned the cobwebs out of his Toolshed...
|I read on the internet that spiders hate fire. This should get rid of them nicely!|
And last but not least, I cleaned the barnacles off his Boat House for him...
|No more pesky barnacles.|
My visit energies fully expended, I headed for the gate...
After returning to my own farm, I paused for a moment of reflection on what had just transpired.
I thought about Giorgos' farm. Not just about the destruction I had wrought upon it, but how austere and sparsely decorated it was. The poor guy really didn't have much of anything.
I guess I began to feel a little bit sorry for him.
Maybe he really was just envious of my wicker goats after all.
I decided that I would buy him a wicker goat of his own, to show there were no hard feelings.
However, as the holiday season had passed, the FV2 General Store no longer sold wicker goats!
I really wanted to get him one, so I shopped around on the web to see if any were still available. Much to my delight, I managed to find one in Gävle, Sweden!
It was a little on the large side, but I knew that my new friend Giorgos would just love it!
I purchased it online and had it shipped over to FarmVille immediately.
After darkness fell, I hired some farmhands to help me set it up on Giorgos' farm during the wee hours of the night.
I only wish that I could see the look on his face when he awakes tomorrow to find my surprise gift!