Chainsaw Chicken, CEO of Chainsaw’s Chicken Burgers, LLC—a sub-division of Chainsaw Chicken International, Ltd—stood outside his newest location and studied it. It was clean, bright, and efficient, set between a laundromat that never seemed to finish and a taxidermy shop specializing in exotic pets. Above it all, a giant chicken head in sunglasses faced the street like it had already seen enough.
“Observe, Mildred,” Chainsaw said.
Mildred—nametag: Employee—looked up from the register. She had been there just under an hour and had already decided not to ask questions.
“The business is working,” Chainsaw said.
A line formed. Orders came in. Bags went out.
“Looks normal,” Mildred said.
“No,” Chainsaw replied. He pointed to the menu. “The Chainsaw Classic. What is it?”
Mildred glanced at the board. “Chicken sandwich.”
“Is it?” Chainsaw asked, leaning slightly closer. “Then why does no one agree on what it tastes like?”
Mildred didn’t answer. At a table, a man sat staring at his burger like it had just said something to him.
From the kitchen came a loud metallic noise. A cook pushed through the door. “The fryer’s doing that thing again.”
“What thing?” Mildred asked.
The cook hesitated. “Like it’s trying to mean something.”
Chainsaw nodded once. “Good.”
“It’s overheating,” the cook said. “It’s going to burn the food.”
Chainsaw walked into the kitchen. “Or it’s making a decision.”
The fryer hummed louder.
“That’s not how fryers work,” the cook said.
Chainsaw picked up a basket and lowered it in. “We don’t limit it.”
A minute later, he pulled it out. The chicken was darker than usual. He plated it and handed it to a waiting customer.
The man took a bite. Chewed. Paused.
“I don’t know what this is,” he said.
Chainsaw nodded.
The man took another bite. “…but I’m going to finish it.”
Chainsaw looked at Mildred. “Repeat business.”
Mildred picked up the next order. “Two Classics,” she called out.
She didn’t look at them.
Note: Look for a location opening near you soon!