What's The Secret, Colonel Sanders?
Back when Oprah had her hysteria driven "free anything" audience bombard KFC, my manicurist got online and secured about 20 print out coupons (2-piece grilled chicken, two sides and a medium drink.) Within days of that, she passed on two of the coupons to me, and off I went, in line with others waving their paper, only to be told, "You'll have to take a rain check," (which struck me as odd since others around me were buying grilled chicken.) That night on late night television, the CEO of KFC (an Australian) apologized to the viewers that KFC had underestimated the response from the Oprah offer. I don't buy that. Oprah says shit pearls, and we're all wearing six-strand Mikimotos.
I had to go to a KFC, get a special form, fill it out and attach my original coupon, mail it, then wait. The coupons finally arrived, and I picked up my freebie for lunch today. I did not announce in advance I was paying with the coupon. The sides were sides. They were fine. Pepsi fine. What floored me was the chicken. Since I don't know KFC etiquette, I was told by the cashier I had to chose "a wing and a breast," or "a leg and a thigh." I went with leg/thigh. I have never seen such greasy grilled chicken in my life, number one, and where did they get these impossibly tiny mutant chickens? I could have been eating a rat leg.
Do you think the Colonel is telling Michael Jackson the secret spices recipe? Is he saying, "I know your Daddy?"
"Fust, you git the oil really hot."