Steve Crosses Into Our World, Tries KFC—Immediately Yells, “This Tastes Like Sh*t!”

Blame the newly opened “Nether‑Earth Portals” tourism board: pixel‑man Steve just lumbered out of a shimmering cube rift and landed smack‑dab in a Los Angeles strip mall beside Jason Momoa and Jack Black. The duo had promised him “a legendary human feast,” parking his square butt in front of a 12‑piece bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken. Jack sang a greasy ballad, Momoa flexed like a cologne ad, and Steve—still clutching a wooden pickaxe—eyed the extra‑crispy wings like suspicious gravel.

First bite: CRUNCH, pixel crumbs everywhere. Steve paused, faceplate freezing, then spat poultry shards onto the Formica table. “WHAT THE ACTUAL F**K IS THIS?” he roared in perfectly blocky monotone. Every soccer mom in a 30‑foot radius gasped; Jack Black applauded the drama while licking honey‑BBQ off his beard. Momoa tried a diplomatic “Bro, it’s comfort food,” but Steve replied, “Comfort? It tastes like Enderman ass after leg day.” Yelp stars dropped faster than TNT frames.

KFC’s teenage cashier whipped out her phone, livestreaming the meltdown under #CubeGags. Within minutes TikTok commenters demanded a “Gravy & Pixels” collab meal, while nutritionists sniped about sodium content versus villager stew. Corporate PR arrived carrying a soggy stack of NDA forms; Steve used them as napkins, muttering something about “paper being a weak material class.”

Momoa—ever the peacemaker—suggested deep‑frying a diamond block for “real crunch.” Jack Black screamed, “TENACIOUS DEEP‑FRY!” and hurled a thigh into the portal, where it allegedly hit a creeper and caused a cholesterol‑powered explosion. Somewhere in Kentucky, Colonel Sanders’ ghost spark‑lerked in outrage, possibly drafting the franchise’s first cease‑and‑desist letter to another dimension.

Steve left the restaurant flipping double‑bird axes and vowing to “stick to suspicious stew, at least it’s honest.” KFC stock ticked down one percent, Jack wrote three verses about poultry regret, and Momoa tweeted, “Next time: plant‑based nuggets or bust.” The portal shuddered closed behind them, still smelling like overused fryer oil and wounded American dreams.