Okay. First things first. I am NOT a turkey. Nope. No turkeys here. Just trash. I am a happy little trash can doing trash things. I am trash and I can give you 3 reasons to prove it. First of all, I smell like trash. I am not kidding when I say this: I STINK! I smell of rotten eggs and two-year-old moldy cheese. Second, I look like trash. My trash can is shiny and I am decorated with assorted trash. I know, I know. I’m absolutely gorgeous! Lastly, I sound like trash. When I move my bottles crinkle and my can clunks. I’m basically a walking orchestra. Ergo, I am trash. I look like trash, I sound like trash, and I… AHHHHH IT’S THE GARBAGE MAN!!!! I GOTTA GO!!!!!



(EDIT: I know that this one was short and it made absolutely no sense, but I was a third-grader, in my defense.)