How NOT to cook a turkey

       “Smothered turkey cutlet” the recipe read in the cookbook Recipes for the Culinary Klutz. I shuddered. I didn’t want to know how the turkey had been killed. I just wanted to know how to cook one. Friends were visiting for Thanksgiving, and I had decided to cook a turkey. I'd never cooked one before, but how hard could it be?
       I went to Wal-Mart, purchased Thanksgiving goodies -- cans of yams, dressing mix, pumpkin pie, etc. -- and an ostrich-sized bird. I had it carried to my car by a burly salesclerk (I made sure to tip her), and off I went. I placed all the groceries on my kitchen table. I was going to be organized.
       First problem: Defrosting. The directions said the turkey should defrost in the fridge for 48 hours. But my guests would arrive in six hours. Solution: I’d defrost it in the microwave. But first I turned on the regular oven to preheat.
       Second problem: It wouldn’t fit in the microwave. Solution: I’d cut the turkey in half, and then it would fit.
       Third problem: Frozen turkey is the hardest substance known to man. It should be used to make bank safes. I couldn’t cut it with a knife, a cleaver, a hacksaw or an axe. I was starting my chainsaw when I realized I could defrost the bird in the sink. It fit tightly, but I got it in there. I turned on the hot water.
       Fourth problem: Something was burning in the oven. Yikes! I had forgot to remove the pots I store in the oven, and some of them had handles that were melting. I grabbed oven mitts and rushed the pots outside. My mitts stuck to the handles so it took a while to free them.
       Fifth problem: I came back into the kitchen and stepped in water. The sink was overflowing. The turkey blocked the drain. I turned off the water, got several bath towels, and threw them on the floor. Then I tried to lift the turkey. Hot, hot, hot! The water was too hot. So I found a stick. I stuck it in the sink and tried to lever the bird up to free the drain.
       Sixth problem: The turkey wouldn’t budge. Solution: I’d pour cooking oil in the water and grease up the turkey so it could slip free.
       Seventh problem: The oil floated on top of the water. Fine. If I couldn’t get the turkey out with chemistry, I’d use a bigger lever. I got a broom handle and forced it beneath the turkey. I heaved. The turkey resisted, then shot free, hovered in the air like a poultry UFO, and turned around twice before it crashed back into the sink, drenching me and my kitchen with a wave of hot oily water. I took a step, slipped on the towels, and fell backward. Grabbing wildly, I reached for the kitchen table. I caught the tablecloth and pulled it and the groceries on it on top of me. As I lay there, looking at my ceiling, I took a deep breath and then did in last place what I should have done in the first place.
       And that’s why my guests enjoyed the traditional Thanksgiving hamburgers at McDonald’s.

Copyright 2007 Stephen B. Bagley. All rights reserved. No copying or downloading without express written permission. Excerpted from his forthcoming book Floozy & Other Mishaps