As you stare in morbid fascination, it becomes clear that the magic of the Wishing Powder has taken far more potent affects on Sean. Grease and ketchup are literally dripping down his face and chin! Bones and other unwanted chicken bits have appeared exponentially around his plate and feet, on rare occasion flying from his hands like slimy projectiles.
All the while, to your sadistic fascination and entertainment, fellow KFC customers gaze along with you at the starving fat man in front of them.
But, as much fun as you're having at Sean's expense, you see some pompous excuse for a superior swagger over to Sean's table. He's tall, slight of shoulder and wide of girth, and has a thin & sad example of a mouth bent into a wicked sneer just screaming," Time for YOU to leave."
Quickly trying to protect the torture you've waited so long to give, you take a quick swig from the Wishing-Powered-water solution and whisper, "I wish I had a debit card with unlimited amount of cash on from any random bank."
He comes over and you say...