Turkey vulture crashes into Stephen A. Smith's ESPN office, might have smelled one of its own

Stephen A. Smith loves nothing more than picking apart the desiccated carcass of a story. He's a sports scavenger in the truest sense, feasting on the remains of Max Kellerman and athletes across the Big Four every morning on First Take from 10 a.m. to 12 p.m. He's circled the corpse of Hunter Henry, calling him an x-factor despite not playing for the Chargers all season, and danced on the graves Redskins quarterbacks Alex Smith, Colt McCoy, and Mark Sanchez by lumping them in with fellow QB Tress Way, who is actually punter. He even drove a nail in Dwayne Haskins' draft stock coffin, calling him "more of a runner than thrower." Now Haskins might even fall all the way to the Dolphins, and lord knows Stephen A. will be there to feast on his eyeballs when he does.

We bring up this seemingly random analog not to pile on poor Stephen A.—a reasonably accomplished sports journalist who gets a bad rap for the character he plays on TV—but because on Tuesday morning, a literal turkey vulture flew right through Smith's office window up at the Worldwide Leader, shattering windows and establishing a pretty hilarious parallel in the process.

The most widespread species of North American vultures, the Turkey vulture finds its food via a keen sense of sight and smell, flying low to detect rotting meat on the ground. If you've ever wondered what a First Take production meeting looks like, that's a pretty good start. Unlike Stephen A.'s patented verbosity, however, the turkey vulture lacks a syrnix, the vocal organ of birds, and thus does not sing, cry, or chirp, instead communicating through a series of low grunts and hisses. In other words, it can't take pot shots while riding Derek Carr's bloated body downstream like an edible raft, but hey, no comparison is perfect.

Thankfully for Stephen A., he was warm and cozy in ESPN's new Seaport studios in downtown Manhattan when the collision occurred, debating hot topics like "LEBRON [SERIES OF SHOUTED CONSONANTS]" and the time-honored classic below. Can't let fresh road kill go to waste, folks.