You just never know what you're going to find in Brickell. I witnessed the aggressive shenanigans of this gang of chickens yesterday while I sat at the Lucky Clover Bar during a conference call. They fought. They hung close and tight. They're the feathery terrors of Miami's hip neighborhood, lording it over the Brickell Metrorail Station, home turf to this crew of would-be poultry dishes or santería sacrifices.
Don't mess with the Brickell Chickens. And they're too sexy to pay rent or invest in Miami condo short sales, by the way.
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