The Oven Birth

“To the founder of this feast!”

“The founder of this feast!” chorused a group of ten men, women and children in response to the original comment as a gentleman in his forty’s raised a glass of red wine high above a table of food that included a humongous turkey surrounded by roasted potatoes, carrots and parsnips, with a bowl of Brussels sprouts to the side, broccoli in a serving bowl next to it and not far away a ceramic pouring jug containing gravy.

Cold Turkey surveyed the scene and watched as the man set down his glass of red liquid and picked up a metallic two pronged implement in one hand and a disconcerting long metallic bladed - and rather sharp- looking implement in the other. As the man lunged forward to Cold Turkey, he started to shake. Though it wasn’t due to being cold and indeed Cold Turkey was rapidly trying to calculate through his computer brain how he’d obtained that moniker. Finding no readily available answers, he decided to park that query in favour of the more urgent concern of the two prongs and sharp blade rapidly approaching his torso.

No, Cold Turkey wasn’t cold, having just exited an oven at 200 degrees Celsius (fan) / 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Though why he’d been born inside an oven he could not comprehend. Only later would he learn that it was due to an Energon pulse being sent around the planet Earth set off from a piece of the Transformer race’s Creation Matrix* being launched into the Earth’s atmosphere. (Meaning that he would survive this experience -of course he will- to learn that information). With his birth, his computer brain was being connected to a cloud of information. Image after image was being poured into microprocessors as he aimed to get a basic understanding of his surroundings. He cross-checked his geographic location with images he could find resembling his form. Plus, looking to the colours and ornaments that surrounded him for clues. ‘Thanksgiving’ he queried. No, the geolocation and decorations didn’t align. He looked to the green pointed plant-based object near the end of the wooden table he was on, decorated with metallic balls and other shiny items.

Cold Turkey’s shaking started to slowly dislodge elements of his body. The sides of his torso where his wings were started to open outwards and 5 digits on each side unfolded. Below his torso, sections started to extend and descend and with a bounce he pushed the extensions against the plate he was sat on to leap into the air (the plate broke by the way). With the leap into the air, his two drumsticks detached and flew upwards circling above the top of him as a section lifted up and outward revealing a robotic face. He landed, legs abreast on the table, approximately one and a half metres in height, a robotic form with the elements of the organic turkey still clearly visible and surrounding his shape. The two drumsticks, which had grown larger somehow, landed in each hand and Cold Turkey gestured with them threateningly as if they were two pistols. The human with the metallic objects in his hand took a quick step backwards, slowly and gently placing the knife and fork onto the table in front of him.

The crowd of ten humans stood around in shock, with some of the elders grabbing the children and hiding them behind themselves or just generally hugging them for comfort.

“Do not be afraid!” said the robot turkey, stowing the drumstick-pistols on his back out of the way. “I have come from afar to tell you.. to tell you..” he searched through the millions of data in written literature he now had access to, looking for the appropriate words to say at this point.

“Ho! Ho! Ho! As the goblin said!” he proudly proclaimed. The humans looked puzzled. “Dickens!?” he added, disappointed they didn’t understand the reference. He searched further and finally settled upon, “Merry Christmas to all! And to all..” and with that he leapt off the table and ran to the door, opening it to disappear into the falling snow outside. “.. a goodbye!” they heard him finally call.

Back at the table, a piece of broccoli leapt out of the bowl, growing in size and reshaping its form so that arms, legs and something of a head appeared. It too jumped off the table to chase after the turkey. “Wait for me!” cried Brock O’Lonely.

The group gathered themselves from their shock, staring at what was left of their ruined Christmas dinner.

Wondering how much of their remaining ‘feast’ might actually turn into a robot.

(*more on this in my other Pelybots stories).

There’s hundreds if not thousands of characters in the Transformers universe, with at least 500 in the Botbots range alone. When I saw, back in February, a transforming turkey, I knew I had my Xmas story. And then totally forgot about it until a week ago. Throw in a piece of broccoli and here you go. Cold Turkey and Brock O’Lonely exist as actual Transformers characters. This is a piece of fan-fiction using Hasbro’s Transformers toy line. Text and images all my own. The background images of the Christmas dinner from various preparations my wife and I have put on over the years!