I should have refused.
That “thing” was ghastly. Gross. Disgusting. A piece of chicken in there somewhere, supposedly with two fried mozarella sticks on top of it (which had a taste and texture like no mozarella I’ve ever experienced; they looked so suspicious that I tried just a nibble and quickly removed them), smothered in something that appeared and tasted like a mayonaise/cheese combination (equally gross!). I have no idea what the green flecks were. Scraped everything off and ate just the chicken. I figured the chicken would have been fried enough to have a nearly-impermeable coating of crusty grease that would keep anything else away, but sadly no. This “thing” was the personification of a nightmare Gordon Ramsey might have if he were to be on his feet for 5 days straight on crack. I won’t debate evidence that that’s not a hypothetical scenario.
Why offer something like this? Simple. Because you can’t make this stuff up. Nobody would believe it. Like the Bacon Shake. It’s a culinary joke, with Jack daring you to come along for the ride. I can only wonder what they might come up with next. Perhaps the RKB, which stands for something super-secret but they let slip out through an unauthorized tweet that maybe it stands for Road Kill Burger. And it just might be. No shortage of possums around.
