“You Stupid Son of a Bitch!” roared from the lectern, the President pointing his index finger aiming at Chainsaw Chicken.
Chainsaw froze in position instead of leaving the press briefing. He slowly turned to face the President seeing who he was speaking to. Biden’s finger remained twitching at him. “Me?? Me, Mr. President?” Chainsaw meekly inquired back, also saying, “Why do you say that?”
Angrily, the President continued… “C’mon Man! You’re a dog faced pony soldier!” his finger now punctuating each syllable as he spoke adding, “I’d challenge you to a pushup contest if someone would help me up.”
The small George Soros creature known as Darth Chicken mumbled coaching phrases while standing almost off camera. “Tell him! Give it to him, Joe!”
Chainsaw raised his arm and pointed his hand to his chest. “Are you speaking about me, Mr. President?”
“I wish I could take you behind the gym and beat the hell out of you. I’ve been in a lot of locker rooms my whole life” Biden started sputtering seeming to lose his focus towards Chainsaw and refocusing on his own memories. “I was a truck driver before I was arrested for protesting against civil rights, I mean for… FOR civil rights. I would never stand for the way that you attack President Harris. Calling her “Camel La”. It’s Carmel, or is it Caramel… I like either one on my ice cream sundae… I sometimes just call her Butterscotch”… his hand finally beginning to lower, then suddenly raising up again. “We’ve been married now for years. I met her on my daily rides, One-way on the ol’ Amtrak on my way to the White House. She…. she was always there, taking my ticket, selling me a cup of noodles and a zagnut bar.” Biden’s speech began to slow and slur some. He began to actually wilt from behind the stand. “But Jill never would…(unintelligible words…. again and again) but she sure knew how…Hahahaha”.
The Soros creature, Darth Chicken, began to work some badly needed controls as Biden folded his hands and rested his chin on them.
Suddenly, assistant press secretaries emerged shouting “Okay, That’s all folks… There we go… Out the door… See you tomorrow… We’ll keep you informed.. Please disregard the last session… There was an audio problem… The president couldn’t understand the questions… Okay, out the door…”.
A White house staffer reached out to Chainsaw and told him that the President would like to have a private call with him later on today to ‘clear the air’. Please leave your number with Ms Psaki.”
So, the other day, this new guy shows up in town, right? Nobody knew where he came from. He wasn’t like the weird hippies or the out-of-towners who usually blow through South Park. No—this guy was different. He looked like a regular dude, but with this freaky rubber chicken mask stuck on his head, like he thought he was born that way or something. Said his name was Chainsaw Chicken. Yeah, that’s his actual name.
At first, everybody thought he was just another South Park crazy. But he didn’t bring a chainsaw, and he didn’t cluck or flap or anything—he just walked around like nothing was weird about having a chicken face. He bought coffee at Tweek’s parents’ shop, nodded at people like he’d lived there forever, and then showed up at the bus stop with us kids the next morning.
Stan kept staring at him.
Kyle was all, “Dude, what the hell is wrong with that guy’s head?”
Cartman, of course, thought it was awesome. “You guys, this dude is gonna be my new best friend. ...
There I was at my doctor’s office. I was seeing him about the goo that was growing between some of my toes. He sent it off for a culture. What happened after that is disgustedly amazing.
Case in point: the goo patch between my toes. I thought it was athlete’s foot. The doctor thought it was athlete’s foot. Turns out, it was history in the making: a sample of goo that became the immortal CSC line — Chain Saw Chicken cells.
Immortal means they don’t die. Ever. They just keep dividing, multiplying, taking up space like in-laws who forgot how to leave. You could drop them in a Petri dish in 1973, and in 2025, they’d still be at the party.
Now, you might have heard of another line like this: HeLa cells, taken from Henrietta Lacks without her consent in 1951. They became the backbone of modern medicine — used to develop the polio vaccine, cancer therapies, gene mapping, you name it. That poor woman’s tumor cells outlived her by decades and made billions for other people.
Well, congratulations, ...
The boldest move I’ve made in the name of ALDI was volunteering Chainsaw Chicken — my satirical alter ego — as a free box boy for seniors at checkout. Anyone who shops at ALDI knows the rhythm: the cashier scans with lightning speed while customers scramble to bag their own groceries. Most people see that as pressure. I saw it as a chance to give back.
One afternoon, I stationed myself at the end of a checkout lane with an empty Aldi box and a heroic sense of purpose. The cashier fired items across the counter faster than I could keep up, while Chainsaw Chicken — a man in a yellow latex chicken mask — packed with painstaking care. He was slow, clumsy, but determined. The older customer smiled at the effort, grateful for the help. The cashier, however, looked like she was witnessing a one-man traffic jam.
That scene captures my Aldi loyalty. It isn’t just about bargains or efficiency — it’s about showing up, adding heart, and making the experience unforgettable. I’ve...
