Looks like the viral marketing for Cloverfield 2 is in full swing; I expect it to be released sometime around Thanksgiving, and this might be our first look at the long-rumored terrifying creature from the depths of the mind of JJ Abrams.


From: [identity profile] manekikoneko.livejournal.com


That video is titled incorrectly, because that is the worst possible way to run away from a wild turkey.

From: [identity profile] alstaria.livejournal.com


OMG! The girl scout camp I was a counselor at was plagued by a half-dozen of these suckers the year I worked there. Wild turkeys are some mean mofos.

I still maintain that there is nothing quite as hilarious as 30 8-year-old girls running shrieking from 6 large turkeys who are then followed by two grown women with brooms trying to chase them off :)

From: [identity profile] gloomchen.livejournal.com


TURKEYS ARE FUCKING MEAN AND SCARY.

Amusingly enough, where I work every day, at least once a week there are either gigantic flocks of geese wandering around the parking lot or several turkeys. And the goal is to always get around them and get away from them, because if you piss them off, they will chase you. They're like swans. They will peck your eyes out.

From: [identity profile] sigma7.livejournal.com


We had geese, turkeys, and peacocks (and tons of other various poultry and small critters) -- one of our geese was deformed by weed killer so that the top of her beak was bent and she needed to be hand-fed for the first year or so of her life, but after that she was a very social but friendly goose. The other geese we had were vicious. The only person they were really scared of was me. But the most they did was honk.

Typically we'd have one alpha-male turkey who'd be relatively social, but charge you if you were kneeling and your back was turned. Dad would routinely punt him short distances whenever he did that. But I always got along with the little monsters.

The peacocks, 99.9% of time, were docile and timid and would only very infrequently take hand-held food. But at least twice they've been tweaked by some obscure social signal or perceived slight and attacked, jumping up on people (well, okay, Dad) and pecking and clawing away. First time it happened, Dad managed to drive 15 miles to the ER while wiping blood out of his glasses to get stitched up and gave the offending beast to the zoo. Last time one tried it, Dad had a rake within grasping distance and got in a pretty decent swing.

But yeah, if there's a horde of winged beasts lurking around and not actively avoiding people, I'd steer way the hell away too. Unless it's ducks. I would be content dying under a duck puddle.
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