Every power-house has their own form of fuel.
For Mario and Luigi they come in the form of coins hidden within different worlds or levels.
For super models, it's often a few glasses of water, some pills and a pack of smokes.
For Nicole Richie, it's a salad to be consumed one leaf at a time.
It's no secret that for The Club, it's the delicacy known as Creaky Chicken.
For years we have thought that we were the only ones to know what this special protein-packed and oil-ridden feast was.
But be warned: the secret is out. My thought:
The Club has an internal spy. A Benedict Arnold. She may come in the form of one part hipster, or two parts artist, or maybe even just a simple nyc girl... but beware. Any girl able to hang in HQ, and then spread Club inside tricks, is able to confess all to the public... yes, possibly even Flashlight Confessionals.
No, I am not just a paranoid politician worried that our enemies will slowly creep in and blend into the masses. I have proof.
Proof comes in the form of a man named "Spike" who resides in our bordering state of N.J.
It was only in November that "Spike" posted the importance of Creaky Chicken on his blog,
http://www.fiveandtwenty.com/spike/?page=a/2005/11/04/sudden_valley.php
Spike is calling for all citizens to actively engage in the consumption of our special fuel. He so boldly wrote to the world, "Everyone should know about creaky chicken", on November 4, 2005.
So Spike, you may know about our poultry, you may even have your underground bunkers with cases of freeze-dried Creak, but you will NEVER, I repeat NEVER have a or The Club.
Amen.
Jane B.
President of The Greatest Club In The World.
We mourn the loss of Empire Schezuan Balcony, hence our hearts and stomachs also mourn Creaky Chicken. While some have known The Creak since children, and others have only recently been privy to the soul-changing entree, we will all remember it with only fondness and respect. 
