One would think that living next door to a chicken slaughterhouse in Brooklyn means you’re practically on skid row – light years from the next gentrified, bourgie-hipster camp. Wrong! In the heart of trendy Greenpoint, a condominium building turned rental went up right next to a long-standing temple of poultriatic doom. Tenants shell out $2500 a month to get an earful of constant squawking combined with the persistent stench of death of the expiring yellow-bellies. The residents morbidly refer to the situation as ‘fowl play.’ But their protest against the 1928 killing factory has finally been successful, offering a new space for comedic relief.