On Thursday afternoon, local turducken Jennifer was found sobbing underneath a kitchen table during what appeared to be a terrifying existential identity crisis. During the 82 minute crying session, dinner guests allegedly ignored Jennifer’s cries for help, at first confusing them with the cries of the young guests who somehow hate both parades and sports. It wasn’t until a diner by chance spotted the barely conscious turducken that Jennifer was able to calm down and clean the excess stuffing and gravy that had begun to surround her.
“I need to know what I am. How can I live a life where I don’t even know how I identify?” said a panting Jennifer. “I feel so confused, living an unnatural existence, created by man for his pleasure. How dare you play God for your own amusement, creating a Frankenstein’s monster of birds, leaving me to an existence of ambiguity.”
“Is this thing still okay to eat?” said a concerned Thomas Robinson. “I’m not sure what the rules are for this type of thing. Will I have my own identity crisis after I eat her? Is that how this works? Someone please tell me.”
At press time, Jennifer had started in therapy, where she hopes to escape the need to label herself as something and can finally find solace in what she truly is: a special individual made up of many slightly smaller individuals.