You sit at the restarunt with your young son. He says he is hungry, you agree to get him dinner. You open up the kids menu, your son is far too young for adult food. Chicken nugger stares at you from the page, you dont understand. Your palms gets sweaty and your son complains. He says he is hungry your mind strains searching for an answer in the world of sweer potatoe and french fried you try to order the chicken nugger but you cannot. The words cannot escape your lips. Your son is hungry he complains, the waitress stares at you her head a spinning chicken nugger, her arms swinging french fried. Your son cries the tears of a chicken nuggerless child. In your mind you scream it is raining sweer potatoe. Now you have french fried engraved on your right temple and you do not understand. Your son weeps in the corner, he is starving; starving for the chicken nugger