There’s a lawsuit making its way through federal court right now about chicken nuggets shaped like the numbers six and seven. And before anyone dismisses that as a joke, it’s worth taking a closer look because, beneath the ridiculousness, this case raises issues that food retailers and brands deal with on a regular basis: who gets credit for an idea, and when does borrowing become copying?
John Soules Foods was named as the defendant in the complaint that Perdue Foods filed on June 23 in the U.S. District Court for the Eastern District of Virginia. Perdue claims that Soules Foods essentially copied the look and feel of its “6-7 Chicken Nuggets” — a limited-edition product the company launched in April and rolled out to Walmart stores nationwide by May 1. Trade dress infringement, unfair competition, and trademark infringement are among the accusations. Perdue claims it wants a jury trial and more than $100,000 in damages.
The product itself was based on the slang term “6-7,” which gained popularity in Gen Alpha circles and is used to convey coolness, confidence, and a sort of insider swagger. It was named the 2025 Word of the Year by Dictionary.com. Perdue moved early, filing trademark applications tied to the “6 7” branding and its packaging imagery, including a logo showing chicken nugget-shaped numerals held up by cartoon hands. It was astute product promotion. The kind that tends to get rewarded with shelf space and social media attention.
On June 7, John Soules Foods, which also markets under the name Soules Kitchen, announced that it would launch its own “67 Chicken Nuggets” at Kroger and Aldi in July. Additionally, they collaborated with Maverick Trevillian, a teenager who gained some notoriety in 2025 after going viral for making the 6-7 gesture during a basketball game. Compared to what Perdue had put together, the “67 kid” collaboration was a true hook, perhaps even more directly tied to the cultural moment.
Perdue sent a cease-and-desist letter to Soules on June 9. Soules responded on June 17 and declined to stop using the branding. It was followed by the lawsuit. For its part, Soules Foods has stated that it has hired legal counsel and disputes Perdue’s allegations.
The complaint has one noteworthy detail. Perdue claims that because the store would already be carrying Soules’ rival product, at least one significant national grocery retailer refused to carry its 6-7 nuggets. Loss of shelf space during the product’s brief time on the market is a tangible, quantifiable harm. When federal judges assess whether actual damage occurred, it’s the kind of thing that usually sticks.
The extent of the packaging similarities is still unknown. Perdue argues that Soules used the same core elements — the numeral-shaped nuggets, the cartoon hands, the playful tone. Soules hasn’t made its full defense public yet, but the obvious counterargument is that both companies were chasing the same cultural trend at roughly the same time, and that a certain visual logic follows naturally from the concept itself. There are only so many ways to take pictures of a product that resembles the numbers 6 and 7.
Both businesses seem to have read the same cultural moment and pursued it simultaneously. That is not out of the ordinary. The speed at which this entered federal litigation—from product launch to cease-and-desist to courtroom in less than three months—is remarkable. Such disputes are usually settled through negotiation in the food industry. This one didn’t.
Regardless of the outcome, the lawsuit has already increased both brands’ visibility beyond what they likely anticipated from a frozen nugget product. Whether that’s worth the legal fees is another question entirely.
