It's the latest round in the battle between the Vampire Queen and the Fried Chicken King. Al Copeland, a flamboyant restaurateur from New Orleans, is again risking the wrath of vampire writer Anne Rice.
The two Louisiana personalities have clashed repeatedly since Copeland - who made his millions in fast food - opened a giant peach-coloured restaurant decorated in an intergalactic art-deco style three years ago.
For Rice, the best-selling author of Interview With a Vampire, it was an intolerable eyesore. She objected to the restaurant's location in the city's historic Garden District. Rice has long positioned herself as a patron of New Orleans's rich heritage. She owns several grand homes in the city, including one close to the restaurant itself.
Her stinging reaction to Copeland's extravaganza was a very public campaign to close the joint down. She took a full-page advert in a local newspaper apologising to tourists, saying: "This monstrosity in no way represents the ambience or charm that we seek to offer you."
Copeland replied with his own ad saying he was providing 200 new jobs for the city. He also declared that he was putting extra garlic on his food as a precautionary measure against his rival's famed attraction to the undead.
Not to be outdone, Anne Rice, whose own excesses include selling T-shirts stamped with a scan of her brain, took out another advert. In it, she announced that the restaurant was such a monstrosity that her most famous character, the vampire Lestat, had awoken from a slumber and gone back to neck-biting.
The animosity between the two personalities proved good for Copeland's business and hundreds of curious locals flocked to the restaurant. However, after three years of peach extravagance, Copeland did close the doors of his controversial restaurant late last year. Following extensive design changes, he is relaunching his eating house as a "high-concept" bistro. And by doing so, he is deliberately stoking the hornet's nest of his old rivalry with Anne Rice.
The restaurant, which had been due to open early in the New Year, was still under wraps when a Copeland spokesman announced: "I can't really describe to you what this place looks like now. It's out of this world. It's different from anything you've seen before."
Called Copeland's Cheesecake Bistro, the restaurant has already set planning officers' teeth on edge. The local authorities are reeling from proposals to adorn the building with 375 square feet of neon signs.
Ed Horan, a spokesman for New Orleans City Council, said: "Mr Copeland likes to try different styles in order to attract attention. You could say we're his laboratory. He wants 10 different signs on his new restaurant when he's only allowed three. I'm convinced his new plans will upset many neighbours, including Ms Rice."
In New Orleans's historic districts, displays of excess are not well-liked. As one of the US's top tourist destinations, city fathers claim its charm for visitors lies in its sympathetically preserved buildings.
Whether the Fried Chicken King's latest colourful marketing technique will raise the vampires from their sleep remains to be seen. What is clear, however, is that many in the Big Easy are looking forward to the next public spat between two of their most lively characters.