Cluckin' Bell
Taste the Cock! Leonida's premier destination for industrial-grade chicken, deep-fried denial, and enough grease to lubricate a tank.
Serving up beakless chunks and mystery meat buckets that make the local health inspectors look the other way.
An oversized cardboard coffin packed with three meals' worth of greasy regrets and a bucket-sized soda.
The official sanctuary for Leonida's loiterers, late-night hustlers, and anyone who's given up on their liver.
The Poultry Gospel
Cluckin' Bell is more than just a fast-food chain; it’s the smell of Vice County’s hustle. In a state that moves at breakneck speed, Cluckin' Bell provides the high-sodium fuel needed to survive a shift at the docks or a night dodging VCPD cruisers.
Plastered across Leonida's food courts and grimy corners, its deranged chicken mascot is a symbol of mass-market survival. It’s the place where deals go down in sticky booths and the parking lots double as fight clubs. If it tastes like yellow fryer oil and sorrow, it’s a Cluckin' Bell classic.
Protagonist observed grabbing a bucket of mystery meat before engaging in high-stakes urban traversal.
Massive billboards glowing over gridlocked Leonida highways, reminding everyone that suffering is delicious.
Lifestyle Ecosystem
Other titans of the Leonida food chain: