Nelly: Good morning James. I'm here to collect my hand-fed, big-breasted, opera-lovin' and organic turkey if you please.
James: Why certainly miss. What's your number?
Nelly: (rather crestfallen) Number 93.
James: William! Number 93 is here for her turkey.
William brings out the big bird. Nelly feels a little sad. This is one turkey who''ll never listen to Madame Butterfly again.
James: That will be seven million pounds pleaseAnd this is what I'm thinking. It is a terrible thing to kill a turkey. You take away everything they are and everything they're ever going to be.* And I'm also thinking. See thon James. Robbing bastard.