Now, my family loves their chicken. Sadly, that was not the case the night I visited this Manchester KFC. I ordered a bucket of crispy chicken for us, my first huge mistake. We finally received our order after twenty minutes. The crew was so busy jabbering, apparently they forgot to remove my meal from the fryers, only instead of remaking it, they served it to us. I demanded to see a manager about the charcoal in a bucket. A fellow named Charlie walks up and says, word for word, ""You ordered it crispy."" I pointed at the blackened pile of poultry, and demanded our money back. Oddly, he refused, and began to recook the meal. I looked back, and he was drinking something from inside a brown bag, I could only assume it was alcohol. He began shouting about how much of a problem we were to his co-workers, and anyone else who cared to listen. My wife became so embarrassed that she walked to the car with the children. At this point, since I'm unable to recoup my hard earned money from this drunk manager, I ask for the meal to go. He absolutely flips. He takes the bag he was drinking from and hurls it against the wall, confirming my alcoholic suspicion, bags my food, and throws it onto the counter, breaking open a styrafoam container of gravy all over my meal. We will NEVER visit this, or any other KFC ever again. It looks like we'll have to learn to love some other restaurant. Thanks Charlie.
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