Wooly Wreck

Wooly Wreck: When Feathers Hit the Fan

The pre-dawn darkness at Dry Creek Trail vibrated with the sound of labored wing beats and heavy breathing. Kenneth Oetker, better known as Tumbling Turkey, perched atop the elevated basket on hole three, his oversized wings spread wide against the starlit sky. 🦃

"This time," he muttered, adjusting his perpetually crooked flight goggles, "this time I'll show them turkeys CAN fly."

From the commentary booth, Clucky Marvel's voice crackled through the morning air. "Dawn Defenders, we have unauthorized flight practice on hole three! Don't worry, I've got seventeen different types of safety equipment ready, including my new emergency feather-repair kit!"

Kenneth ignored the commentary, focusing on his pre-flight checklist. Wings? Check. Goggles? Secured-ish. Safety-pinned cape? Only snagged on two branches this time. He crouched, muscles tensing for the leap that would finally prove his aerial prowess.

The jump was magnificent. The flight lasted exactly 1.3 seconds. The landing created a Kenneth-shaped crater in the fairway, sending a shower of dirt and feathers across three teeing areas. His tumbling body rolled like a bowling ball down the slope, his cape wrapping around him like a festive turkey burrito. 💥

"SPECTACULAR DEFENSIVE POSITIONING!" Clucky shouted, papers flying. "That's exactly like when—oh, there go my notes about Johnson's famous roller technique!"

Unknown to Kenneth, his crash had created the morning's first accidental miracle. His impact crater and subsequent tumble path had carved a perfect defensive barrier across the main approach route to the egg storage. Any wolf trying to sneak through would have to navigate what now looked like a turkey-themed obstacle course.

Baron Blunderfang observed from his hidden command post, monocle glinting with satisfaction. This morning's chaos was even better than anticipated. His newest operative—Woolsworth, his most talented wolf in full sheep disguise—was already mingling with the arriving Dawn Defenders. The costume was perfect: genuine wool (ethically sourced, Baron had standards), authentic sheep bells, and even a convincing nervous bleat. 🐺

"Remember," Baron whispered into his communicator, "you're Woolly Wonder, here for your first day defending eggs. Act suspicious of everyone else. Let paranoia do our work for us."

Woolsworth nodded, practicing his sheep waddle one more time. The disguise was so complete that even his own pack had trouble recognizing him. His throws would be deliberately mediocre—just good enough to avoid suspicion, just bad enough to ensure missed coverage.

As the Dawn Defenders assembled for the morning round, Kenneth had extracted himself from his turkey burrito wrap and was attempting to smooth his ruffled feathers. Watchful Sheep approached, eyeing the new defensive earthworks with approval.

"Nice barrier placement," she said. "Very strategic."

Kenneth's chest puffed with pride. "Yes! Exactly! I meant to do that. Tactical tumbling, I call it."

From across the gathering, a new voice bleated nervously. "H-hello, fellow defenders! I'm Woolly Wonder! Ready to protect eggs with my, uh, wool powers!" 🐑

Mighty Cow turned to examine the newcomer, her super milk sprayers twitching with instinct. Something seemed off, but she couldn't quite place it. Maybe it was the way Woolly Wonder's wool looked too perfect, or how his hooves clicked differently on the concrete tee pad.

"Welcome to the Dawn Defenders," she said cautiously. "Have you played this course before?"

"Oh yes! Many times! I mean, no! First time! I mean..." Woolsworth caught himself, remembering his training. "Sorry, just nervous. Big responsibility, protecting eggs and all."

The round began with palpable tension. Every throw was scrutinized, every movement questioned. When Sneaky Goat's disc sailed into the woods on hole two, Daring Duck immediately pointed an accusatory wing.

"That throw looked suspicious! You never miss that line!"

"The wind caught it!" Sneaky Goat protested.

"What wind? It's perfectly calm!"

"DEFENSIVE DISCORD DETECTED!" Clucky's voice boomed across the course. "But don't worry, I've prepared for this exact scenario! Who needs my emergency trust-building exercises? I've got laminated cards!"

The paranoia spread faster than Alex Quist's bio-lubricant trail. By hole five, the Dawn Defenders were barely speaking to each other. Woolsworth played his part perfectly, constantly pointing out "suspicious" behavior in others while making calculated mistakes of his own. His approach shot on hole six sailed conspicuously close to the egg storage before "accidentally" hitting a tree. 🎯

Kenneth, meanwhile, had attempted three more flights with predictably disastrous results. Each crash created new obstacles—a fallen log here, a disturbed hornets' nest there (evacuated, thankfully), and one spectacular crater that had somehow redirected the creek flow on hole eight. His repeated failures were carving up the course like a demented landscaper.

"Why do you keep trying?" Brave Pig asked after Kenneth's fourth crash-landing nearly took out the hole nine basket.

"Because," Kenneth wheezed, spitting out a mouthful of grass, "someday I'll fly properly. And when I do, I'll be the best aerial defender this barnyard has ever seen!"

The crisis point came at hole thirteen. The Dawn Defenders had split into suspicious clusters, each group watching the others warily. Woolsworth had managed to position himself near the main egg cache, ready to signal Baron's wolves for the final strike. His sheep bell jangled as he prepared his approach shot—a deliberately errant throw that would "accidentally" knock eggs from their secure position.

Kenneth stood on the elevated tee, determined to make this flight count. His cape was now held together entirely by safety pins and determination. His goggles sat at a 45-degree angle that somehow made everything look like a target. This time, he promised himself, this time he'd soar. 🦅

"AERIAL DEFENSE INCOMING!" Clucky announced, fumbling with his scrapbook. "This reminds me of the time I tried to fly and ended up in the parking lot! Wait, wrong story—"

Kenneth launched himself with every ounce of turkey strength. For one glorious moment, he achieved true flight. His wings caught the air, lifting him higher than ever before. Then physics remembered turkeys weren't meant for sustained flight, and gravity filed its usual complaint.

The descent was spectacular. Kenneth's trajectory took him directly over hole thirteen's fairway, where Woolsworth was mid-throw. The turkey's shadow fell across the disguised wolf just as Kenneth's cape—finally giving up its safety-pin struggle—billowed out like a parachute.

The collision was inevitable. Kenneth crashed directly into Woolsworth with the force of a feathered meteor. The impact sent them both tumbling in a chaotic ball of feathers, wool, and confused squawking. They rolled down the fairway, Kenneth's weight crushing the sheep costume, wool flying everywhere like a discount pillow fight. 💫

But it was what happened during the tumble that changed everything. As they rolled, Woolsworth's sheep head popped off, revealing the unmistakable gray fur and sharp teeth beneath. His wolf ears, compressed under the costume, sprang up like released springs. His true voice emerged in a frustrated howl: "Get off me, you overweight turkey!"

The barnyard froze. Every Dawn Defender stared at the exposed infiltrator, then at each other, as the full weight of the deception hit home.

"WOLF IN SHEEP'S CLOTHING!" Clucky shrieked, his voice reaching frequencies that made nearby dogs concerned. "This is EXACTLY like—no wait, this has NEVER happened before! Someone check my emergency wolf detection kit! It's in my booth somewhere under the spare towels!"

Baron Blunderfang watched his perfect plan unravel thanks to a turkey who couldn't fly. His eye twitched as Woolsworth struggled to extract himself from the tangle of limbs and fabric, his cover blown beyond any hope of recovery.

"Abort mission," Baron growled into his communicator. "All units retreat. We've been... turkey-ed."

But the Dawn Defenders weren't about to let their infiltrator escape easily. The revelation had done something unexpected—it had united them. Watchful Sheep's wool shield blocked the escape route. Mighty Cow's milk sprayers created a slippery perimeter. Brave Pig's mud shield rose like a brown wall of justice. 🛡️

Kenneth, still dizzy from his crash, had somehow ended up sitting on top of Woolsworth, pinning the wolf with sheer turkey mass. "Did I... did I do good?"

"You did AMAZING!" Sneaky Goat shouted, all suspicion forgotten in the face of Kenneth's accidental heroism.

Woolsworth managed to wiggle free, his dignity as tattered as his sheep costume. He sprinted for the woods, slipping on Alex Quist's bio-lubricant trail, bouncing off Kenneth's various crash craters, and finally disappearing into the forest wearing half a sheep costume and covered in turkey feathers.

The barnyard erupted in a mixture of relief and lingering confusion. They'd been infiltrated, manipulated, turned against each other—but Kenneth's spectacular failure had saved them all.

"Dawn Defenders," Watchful Sheep announced, "we need to talk about trust. And security. And maybe getting Kenneth some flying lessons."

"Or not!" Kenneth chirped, still glowing from his accidental success. "My tumbling seems to work just fine!"

From his retreat position, Baron Blunderfang made notes in his planning journal. The turkey was an unexpected variable—a chaos agent that turned failure into success through sheer incompetence. How did one plan around aggressive incompetence? 📝

"Next time," he muttered, watching his wolves help Woolsworth shed the remaining sheep costume, "we go back to mechanical schemes. No more disguises. No more infiltration. Just good, honest, mechanical mayhem."

As the sun rose higher, casting golden light across the battered course, the Dawn Defenders began to repair the trust that had been so easily shattered. They'd learned a valuable lesson: sometimes the best defense came from the most unexpected places.

And Kenneth? He stood proudly among his scattered crash sites, cape in tatters, goggles permanently askew, already planning his next flight attempt. Because maybe, just maybe, his failures were the most successful thing about him.

"Same time tomorrow?" he asked hopefully.

The collective groan from the barnyard was answer enough. But underneath the exasperation was something new—appreciation. Because in a world of elaborate schemes and perfect disguises, sometimes what you needed most was a turkey who couldn't fly but refused to stop trying. 🌅

Clucky's voice carried across the course one final time: "Remember, Dawn Defenders, trust is like proper disc golf equipment—essential for success! Speaking of which, I've got trust-building towels now! They're laminated! Anyone? Anyone want a trust towel?"

The barnyard defenders exchanged glances. They had bigger problems than Clucky's merchandise. Baron Blunderfang was still out there, planning his next move. And if today had taught them anything, it was that they needed to stick together.

Even if that meant putting up with more of Kenneth's flight attempts.

Especially if it meant that. 🦃