Earlier this year, I decided it would probably be a good idea to not be so damn fat. Getting healthier overall laid more seemed like a worthwhile possible side-effect as well. Naturally, I went about googling ways to not be fat, as I assumed it would mean more than just skipping my morning hot cup of butter-flavored Crisco. That googling led me to find out some truly startling mostly maybe possibly true information.

Bread is an asshole.

Yep, that's what the internet said to me. The internet wouldn't lie to me, would it? I mean, it brings me porn. Oh wait, hold on. I knew a girl in Sacramento who did the same thing and she turned out to be crazy.

Regardless, I decided to trust this whole "bread's a cocksucker" theory, in the interest of science, and consume a KFC Double Down. For the great unwashed, this new product from The Colonel is a sandwich that boasts about its lack of buns and judicious application of all things unhealthy.


KGC? Obviously this refers to their line of grilled products, but somehow to me it invokes imagery of communism, jackboots, and possibly Dolph Lundgren.

SPOILERS! (Click to view)

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Ha HA! Now who's crazy?

This thing was wrapped up so tightly upon delivery, I was concerned it may be an omen of greasiness to come. Little did I know how right I was.


The last time I saw breasts this bare it cost me a dollar plus cover and a creepy hipster with Kanye West asshole glasses tried to score coke off me in the men's shitter.


Further exploration shows inside lies a gloppy combination of cheese, bacon, and The Colonel's "secret sauce". Cue the masturbation joke. All gloppiness aside, the structure of the sandwich is sound. I expected the two chicken chunks to slide around against each other like Rosie O'Donnell's ass cheeks in July, making handling difficult and awkward. This was not the case. At least not for the sandwich.


Upon first nom, I ran into a weakness. Rather than submit to my powerful jaws easily, the chicken was stubborn, tearing along its grain. I literally bit off more than I could chew. This tendancy is the sandwich's fatal flaw; the Death Star exaust port if you will.

But there also arose another issue:

A magnificent case of greasefinger. Only the lube-wrangler on the set of Ass Spelunkers #3 could top what results from the handling of this product. I recommend you fight the temptation to unwrap this thing unless you like your fingers to leave subtle meat-smelling fingerprints on everything all day.

But how does it taste? Not bad, really. If the bacon and cheese had been of higher quality it might have even been good despite its flaws. But they weren't, meaning this epicurean disaster can only achieve mediocrity. But, in a way, KFC seems to revel in that fact ... like the slow kid in class with mittens pinned on his sleeves who's way too proud about his ninth place t-ball trophy. Good try, KFC...good try.




6/10 flushes


SnakePlissken proudly sniffs his fingers after fried chicken.