 But my sisters and I only got little scraps of stories about the place. This handful of family-defining origin stories that got trotted out now and then. Like, for instance, there was the one about the chickens. My dad and his brother Lenny both worked in the store from the time they were little kids. And chickens were slaughtered at the store. Or tricked them out. Both of them. To the point where, decades later, as grown men, neither of them ate chicken. And they'd explain this was the reason why.