The folly of fried chicken

Whilst busy pondering the intricacies of atmospheric dynamics the other day, the most unexpected of propositions was put forward to me. "Fancy a bucket of chicken?" or words to this effect interrupted my meteorological musings. Initial reactions to this were less than enthusiastic. I had been going through a period of comparatively low chicken requirements; indeed my chicken needs were certainly nowhere near the 1 bucket level. Dismissing the proposal outright, I tucked back into my text on Rossby waves.

It was only when a fellow physicist sat down near me to consume a mouth-watering chicken-based snack treat that my need for fried chicken began to rise. Enquiring once more I discovered that by participating in the chicken-share deal, I would have access to half a bucket of chicken along with fries, cola, and two side orders, all for £5. As any economist will tell you, this is what is known as a bargain. As it turned out, seven hungry physicists were to share in this feathered feast; a lot of chicken would be consumed.

Half an hour later we returned with our finger-lickin' banquet. Three buckets of deep-fried chicken parts and other cholesterol-based foodstuffs awaited consumption by a slavering mob of undergraduate physicists. Needless to say, what followed was not pleasant. Particle physicists collided chips with dip, quantum opticians absorbed the fried chicken legs, while meteorologists adiabatically devoured the wings.

Yet despite the culinary chaos, there was a subtle irony. Though we had resorted to feeding in the most animal manner, the conversation reminded us that we were better. Whimsical speculation on the chicken-and-egg debate turned into a thorough discussion about the nature of evolution. One member of the group even shared a particularly drole joke about general relatively, that I'm sure we will all remember.

Afterwards the scene resembled the aftermath of a bloody battle between chicken and fries, of which there had been no winner. A feeling of general malcontent and told-you-so-ishness engulfed me as I came to realise the sheer volume of greasy fat and bird I had consumed. It must be said; it left me in a fowl mood.