The Gobbler Game is much more aggressive than the Hunger Games. In the Gobbler Game, you actually eat what you kill! The advanced weaponry is provided by the use of Apache helicopters armed with Hellfire missiles, rockets and 30 mm depleted shells. Attack!  Happy Thanksgiving!

The first Thanksgiving was celebrated in 1621 over a three-day harvest festival and did not include turkey on the menu. Venison, duck, goose, lobster, oysters, eel, and fish were served, alongside pumpkins and cranberries (but no pumpkin pie or cranberry sauce!).

The Gobbler Games: Feast or Be Feasted

In a not-so-distant future, where the holiday spirit gets tangled up with an unhealthy obsession for competition, a new tradition arose—one that left the Hunger Games looking like a polite afternoon tea party. This is the Gobbler Game—where you don’t just fight to survive, you fight to feast. And believe me, you eat what you kill. It’s like Thanksgiving, but with Apache helicopters.

It all started one Thanksgiving when the idea of a simple turkey dinner just didn’t cut it anymore. People wanted more. Why sit around a table passing yams when you could be passing Hellfire missiles?

Every year, 24 contestants are dropped into the Gobbler Arena, a massive forest where wild animals roam freely. But these aren’t your average backyard turkeys. Oh no. We’re talking genetically engineered, armor-plated beasts with a vendetta against cranberry sauce. And if you think the contestants are just going to chase around a flightless bird with a butter knife, you’ve clearly underestimated the American appetite for excess.

In this bloodthirsty tradition, each contestant is given an Apache helicopter loaded with rockets, Hellfire missiles, and 30mm depleted uranium shells—because how else are you going to carve up that venison? The challenge is to hunt and kill your dinner, which could range from a wild duck to a genetically modified lobster the size of a small SUV. Once you bring down your prey, it’s yours to eat, provided you can cook it before your helicopter crashes into the dessert table.

Day One: Attack of the Super Turkey

This year’s Gobbler Game opened with a bang—literally—as contestant #7, “Maddie the Maverick,” took aim at a 12-foot-tall super turkey. One Hellfire missile later, feathers rained down like confetti at a Macy’s parade. Maddie smirked, preparing to land her helicopter, only to find the turkey was still alive and now glaring at her like she was the reason it had to sit through an office potluck.

Meanwhile, in Sector 5, “Big Jim” had cornered a herd of wild deer with his Apache’s mini-guns. The deer had other plans. As the shells hit the ground around them, they performed an evasive maneuver straight out of Mission Impossible, sprinting up the cliffs and leaping over Big Jim’s chopper like they’d been training for this moment their entire lives.

Day Two: The Crabocalypse

Day two escalated when contestant #11, “Crabby Cathy,” thought it’d be smart to go after the mega-lobster. “How tough could it be?” she mused, until the 20-foot-long crustacean cracked its pincers at her like it was challenging her to an underwater duel.

Cathy’s Apache fired off two rockets, one landing a direct hit on the lobster’s tail. There was an explosion of seafoam and shell fragments—but when the smoke cleared, the lobster stood there, ready for round two, now angrier and apparently twice as large.

She barely had time to radio in for backup before the lobster started dragging her helicopter toward the shoreline, as if reenacting some terrible Jaws sequel.

Day Three: The Feast

The grand finale took place on day three. Contestants limped toward the feast table, dragging whatever was left of their prey—or their pride. Maddie had managed to roast her super turkey using the heat from the chopper’s exhaust, though it tasted suspiciously like jet fuel. Big Jim had finally caught a deer, but only after bribing it with pumpkin pie. As for Crabby Cathy? She showed up with a claw the size of a lawn chair and a permanent lobster-induced twitch.

As the survivors sat around the table, staring at their hard-won meals, they realized that the first Thanksgiving had been much simpler. Venison, duck, goose, even eel and oysters—no rockets or missiles involved, just some good ol’ fashioned survival and a nice side of unseasoned cranberries.

But no one at the Gobbler Game was complaining. After all, when your Thanksgiving dinner is delivered via Hellfire missile, it’s hard to go back to just roasting a turkey in the oven. And so, as the Apaches roared overhead, a new Thanksgiving tradition was born: kill it, cook it, eat it—preferably before it eats you. Happy Gobbler Games, and may your leftovers be plentiful… if you survive long enough to enjoy them!

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