Sunday, September 9, 2007

El Pollo Pepe

Pepe es un pollo del pueblo. He is no citified stuffed shirt, like Pollo Feliz. Pepe is in the trenches. He works for a living. He doesn't have the cash for a proper shampoo. Or even marginally fashionable clothes. And without a high-price publicity team, he's gotta beat the big drum himself. Hell, he can't even afford a real name tag. For all we know, his monogrammed apron is a hand-me-down from onetime fried chicken mogul/mascot Pappy Parker.

Still, it would be nice if he had a tio rico or somebody he could have borrowed from to hire a qualified graphic designer. The ubiquitous "ketchup and mustard" color scheme does not flatter him.

One also wonders: Is Pepe always leaning on something? Can't the bird even stand up straight? He's working too hard—that's his problem. Although with the "reward" awaiting him at his retirement party, you have to admire/fear/feel utterly dismayed by his work ethic.

So far, this is all standard stuff: hard-working bird kills himself killing other birds and preparing to be killed. We've been here before. True, ol' P.P. has a winning way—the way he crosses his ankles is especially endearing. He's a chicken everyman!

But he goes and squanders all that goodwill with this:

The most misguided tie-in we can imagine on an empty stomach.

Bad enough that Pepe has sold out his poultry/people. But now he offers a horrible neuva sorpresa. The new surprise? Order 6 chicken nuggets—is it telling that Mexicans prefer not to sully their tongue with their own version of this word?—and receive merchandise featuring Tweety Bird! ¡La digusta sorpresa!

The cognitive dissonance is overpowering. Eat chicken nuggets. Play with Tweety and admire his pluck and his refusal to knuckle under to authority. Again: Eat chicken and play with a bird. And again: Eat chicken and play with a bird. One bird is nothing more than stuff to be consumed. Another is a playmate.


Anonymous said...

Is it me, or does this poor chicken look like Hitler?
A tie-in with "Eternal Treblinka" perhaps?

Giselle said...

I used to live in Guadalajara... that franchise was like a Third-World McDonald's, only the food was healthier.