(This row: Georges Bouillon and Ringmaster Coq au Vin.) Yes, yes, it's all very charming and twee, what with its food-inspired names and playful spirit, but all we see is a celebration of avian death.
(This row: Clucky Flameback and Mince Carter.) How could this concept be anything but grim? Combining circuses and suicidal birds—two of the worst ideas man has yet devised—is a guaranteed loser.
(This row: Mystique Whitefeather and
We can hear the clucking chorus now: "You old pooh! I think this mural is a sheer delight!" You're welcome to it, Madam. (Or Sir?) Its lightheartedness is one of its gravest offenses. Granted, it is misdirection of a highly artistic nature, but it is cloying deception, nonetheless.
(Thanks to Dr. Caitlyn for the referral and to Dr. urbanmkr for her fine photos.)
Addendum: Can you make it out, the graffiti scrawled across Mince Carter's vignette? It reads: "Why did the chicken cross the road? Cause thats the only trip establishment would let it take. (sic)" Poignant.