Philly “Chicken Man” to NYC rip-off: “Fight me.”

Alexander Tominsky, Philadelphia’s self-proclaimed “Chicken Man,” isn’t clucking around.

The Philly folk hero says New York City internet personality Anthony Po staged a public stunt reminiscent of the culmination of Tominsky’s infamous rotisserie chicken stunt, and took to social media with a bone to pick.

“I am tired of this guy constantly emulating me in such a tacky way,” Tominsky posted on X, throwing down a gauntlet — and possibly a pair of boxing gloves.

“I’d like to call him out to a boxing match. The empty lot that used to be Melrose Diner. 40 rounds. No water. #serious,” he wrote.

A reminder: in November 2022, Tominsky who had eaten 39 consecutive chickens in the privacy of his own home, plastered the city with signs inviting strangers to the abandoned pier in South Philly to watch him eat chicken number 40.

It was an underdog story that turned legend — the type of story close to Philadelphian lore popularized by Rocky and Vince Papale’s Invincible movies — spreading across the internet as the rest of the country looked on with awe (and a bit of disgust) that this is what we do here.

It was Chicken Man’s world, and we were just living in it.

That was until a little less than two years later, when Po — a stunt YouTuber who previously worked for MrBeast and is credited with kicking off the celebrity look-a-like contest craze that just landed in Philly — posted fliers around NYC that advertised a similar event: inviting strangers to watch him eat an entire jar of cheeseballs.

Po since expanded the idea into gathering 1,000 people to eat bananas. Other New Yorkers joined in on the antics in September, when Po wrote on X that 3,000 people gathered to watch someone else eat an entire jar of pickles.

To Tominsky, it’s simple theft.

“You took my idea, dressed it up into something cheap and tacky, and used it to grab attention,” Tominsky said in a statement to The Inquirer. “Congrats on your moment, but you and I both know it was built on borrowed energy.”

More importantly, he took it as an assault on Philly. In an attempt to regain his honor — and the honor of his city — Tominsky challenged Po to a fight.

“Philly doesn’t fake it, doesn’t chase trends, and doesn’t bow to the noise coming from places like New York. We’ve always been the underdog, but we’ve never needed to cut corners or ride someone else’s wave to prove ourselves,” he wrote.

“You want to prove you’re more than a clout chaser? Step into the ring. I will settle this like a Philadelphian no shortcuts, no fluff, just raw, honest grit.”

Po says he sees his acts as an homage, not a rip-off — and he even credits Tominsky in his original video.

“He has no idea what he’s talking about,” Po said of Tominsky in a written statement to the Inquirer, where he also alleged that Tominsky ignored an invite to collaborate on a charity project.

The line between paying homage, drawing inspiration, and outright copyright infringement and has always been fuzzy on the internet, where the pace of virality can make it hard to know where trends originated — or who is profiting off of them.

Two minimalist influencers Amazon shopping influencers are currently embroiled in a complex lawsuit after one accused the other of copyright infringement for parroting her taste in neutral home decor, which happens to dominate a certain corner of TikTok.

And in Philly, higher stakes versions of Tominsky’s gripe have played out before: Local content creator Tanara Mallory was forced to get her viral catchphrase “Everybody’s so creative” copyrighted after people started using a soundbite of her to soundtrack their own videos, generating millions of views that she was unable to make money from. Even the creator behind Beyonce’s coveted disco cowboy hat struggled with seeing imitations pop up on Etsy.

Po didn’t outrightly accept or reject Tominsky’s invitation to throw down, but he did have some fighting words.

“I’m busy doing fun and meaningful things for my city,” Po wrote, while Tominsky is “clinging onto one thing he did and spreading hate instead of positivity.”

Tominsky pushes back on this characterization, “I am not hateful, but I am proud,” he said.

“If he wants an opportunity to collaborate and help raise money for good causes this is a great way to do it. Let’s face off in the ring,” Tominsky told The Inquirer. “I am ok with taking the role of the ‘heel‘ and will be proud to stand for the honor of the city and myself whether win or lose.”

But in this supposed internet argument, are we the real heels here? According to Instagram messages provided by Tominski and reviewed by the Inquirer, Po previously suggested drumming up some fake internet beef for charity.

“It could be funny,” Po said.

Tominsky left him on read.