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“King's Hot Chicken Shack didn't exactly scream "romantic," not that I was looking for that. Clearly Daniel wasn't. The shack conveyed something entirely different, with its HOT! HOT! HOT! neon sign and posters of cartoony squawking chickens taped to the window. Nearly all of the items offered on the menu were similar to other hot chicken places I loved, like Prince's and Hattie B's, and most were foods you picked up with your hands, a second clue that Daniel was definitely not inclined to romantic thoughts. Hot chicken nuggets, tenders, wings, quarters, and halves. Waffle fries. Curly fries. Buttered corn on the cob. All of it sounded delicious... and very platonic. Like Flora's coffee shop, this place had an extensive menu, plus way too many heat levels for the average fried chicken consumer: plain, mild, medium, hot, hot, X hot, XX hot, XXX hot, and the ultimate heat: "hot like motherclucking hell!” — Suzanne Park