Talk Turkey?

Aloha, turkeys. Speaking of turkeys, I really like old, hard-boiled detective novels, Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler and stuff like that. Anyway, one thing that Sam Spade always says is, "Talk turkey!" I could understand if there were a comma between the two, like, "Talk, you turkey!" But I've seen that line in multiple places and there's no comma. I can only guess that to talk turkey means to speak truthfully. And if that's the case, I guess it means that the turkey is the most sincere barnyard animal. How many turkeys have been arrested for perjury? Zero, and that's a historical fact.

So if turkeys really are this truthful, I need to find a turkey selling a treasure map. And then, a league of turkey manual laborers to dig the thing up, since I don't want to do it myself and I don't want anyone stealing my treasure. This is where it gets complicated. Eventually, if this idea holds up, I see turkeys becoming like the Jedi Knights of the world: the only entities we can really trust. Over time, it will become illegal to eat turkey since the animal is so valued, and turkeys will overwhelm the earth, destroying humanity with their beaks and their statements of fact.

We're faced with a choice then. We can accept the wisdom of the turkeys, perhaps making the world a better place. In doing so, we embrace humanity's demise. Or we can all start gorging ourselves on turkey every meal until we rid the world of this wretched beast. The fate of the world rests in our choice of lunch meat. What shall we choose? It's a pretty heavy issue, and I don't know exactly where I stand on it. Until I figure it out, I'm going to align myself with the pigs.