Picture it.
Cleveland.
2021.
It’s a BRISK Thanksgiving morning in The Forest City and thousands upon thousands of people have gathered downtown at ass o’clock AM for the annual Cleve-Oh tradition of the Onyx Health Club’s Turkey Trot…40 years and counting!
What better way to prep for a day of football (or eggball, as the UK lads call it) and stuffing your face with friends and family than running! For fun!
Nobody’s making them do this!
While the narrator is having just a little bit of cheeky fun with you all, runners of all ages are beginning to queue near the starting line, chattering with one another and waving to spectators closest to the beginning of the race. Many are in costume, as it’s tradition to have runners dress up for the event and award prizes at the end. There are groups dressed as pilgrims, others as Thanksgiving food items, some as characters from movies and television shows…
And then there’s the dynamic duo of the dunes: Bowie Abrams and Bradlee Nelson….stretching out their quads and doing jumping jacks….in gigantic turkey costumes, complete with their signature neon shades and color-matching fanny packs around their waists.
Bowie: Bro, it is COLD out here!
Bradlee: Dude, I know! Why did I let you talk me into doing this, dude? I could still be in my Freddie Kilgore footie pajamas all snuggly-warm!
Bowie: I’m sorry, bro! We had to go to the gym anyway and I thought it’d be, like, a good way to make up for losing that Halloween costume contest to Double Decker and whatshisface.
Bradlee: Dude I hear you, but it’s so early! And COLD!
Needless to say, our Cool Californian Cucumbers aren’t yet used to Cleveland’s weather. They’re gonna be in for a rude awakening in the winter, amirite?
Bowie: Listen dude, it’ll be fine once we start running. And just think of all the babes we’ll meet along the way. We’re the cutest turkeys running, bro. And who’s gonna be able to resist the number one contender to the Real World’s Championship?
Bradlee beams but then immediately gets sullen.
Bradlee: Bowie, dude, that’s like, awesome of you to say, but we’re a team! We’re Surf Express Bro! We’re supposed to be going after the Foreign Legion and the tag belts! I’m not supposed to be going at it alone against Vito, bro!
Bowie puts a wing on his compadre of the coast’s shoulder and looks at him sympathetically.
Bowie: Listen dude, you earned that shot. Think of this race as training toward Vito. I’m gonna look at this as training against Randall Schwartz and whatever’s gonna come after it. We’re gonna get a chance at Foreign Legion, or the Amarettos, whoever walks outta there with the tag belts. Maybe one day, I’ll get a shot at Shujin Yama. Who knows what’s in store for us, bro! What I do know is that no matter what, we’re always gonna have each other and be Surf Express Bro, no matter what!
Tears well up in Bradlee’s eyes, and he reaches over and hugs Bowie. The two tubular turkeys hug it out like only two bros can, which causes the runners around them to start clapping in admiration. Pretty soon, the spectators are joining in and it’s a full on wave of Bro love! Bowie and Bradlee wave in appreciation, careful not to hit anyone with their feathers in the process.
Suddenly, a voice interrupts the feel-good moment, cutting through the air via a loudspeaker near the starting line.
Race Marshall: Runners, we’re ready to kick off the 40th annual Turkey Trot! Remember to be safe and have fun! Take your marks!
Everyone gets into a ready position. Bowie and Bradlee high-five each other then look forward. Out of the corner of his eye, Bradlee catches a cute 20-something blonde smiling at him with a group of her friends, and he winks at her.
Race Marshall: Get set! GO!
All the runners dart forward, cheering and whooping along with the spectators. The Bros yell right along with them as they make their way down the course. About a quarter-mile into the race, Bradlee turns to Bowie.
Bradlee: Hey, bro?
Bowie: Yeah, dude?
Bradlee: I was thinking…
Bowie: What’s up, bro?
Bradlee: If Randall Schwartz calls himself “The Entertainer,” doesn’t he have to be, like, entertaining?
Bowie strokes his chin with a feather.
Bowie: Maybe in his mind he is, dude. But that doesn’t mean he’s gonna win on Sunday.