Here's the Boor chicken man, all dressed up for a night of opera and cocktail parties. He's less terrifying in a tux, and even though it looks like he had a bit of trouble vis-a-vis his shirt-tuck/cummerbund, I could see myself hanging out with him. But the red t-shirted, freakishly jacked-up reptilian grill version of him makes me uneasy. Nightmarish. In my nightmares I would try to run away from him, but my legs would first stop working, and then shatter. Hordes of him would run impossibly fast circles around me, deafening inhuman shrieks and fried chicken lashing me into oblivion.
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