I looked up from my computer and saw two mean-looking dudes just inches apart, sharing eye lines, staring mortars.
Back to my work.
I awoke this morning to the result of the chicken fight. (People were anticipating, wagering, and watching that contest?)
Oh. Pardon me.
I had pictured fractured legs kicking a way to that last drumstick; crushing knuckles over the tiny tub of coleslaw; arms swinging for a wing. Brutes' brutality to a nutritionist's nightmare. In a fast food church.
Thinking back to "Next week's big KFC fight": I do remember getting the impression that those two dudes did not look like the type who would 'dine' at KFC.
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