Go get some fried chicken.

After your failed attmept to address the crippling hunger pangs you are left with after 43 hours straight playing Wii you decide to make your way to the nearby Fried Chicken district.  You walk past KFC, dismissing it immediately.  You haven't been welcome there since your protestations about the Colonel's 'wee beady eyes' made the Channel 4 news.  For a moment you are tempted by the new joint,  The Jaunty Tail-Feather, but the line seems long and inhabited by the highfalutin sort that appreciates the scene more than a perfectly battered lower appendage of Gallus Domesticus

You are about to give up your search and risk another lenghty session of Wii without any nourishment, when a flickering neon sign above a set of stairs draws your attention.  Curious, you step forward.  The buzzing puts you in a hyper-aware, trance-like state.  The aroma rising from below is glorious.  As you cautiously approach the letters light up one at a time C...H...I...........E...N.

The End

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