Not certain if that's a proper word, but as a title for this post it's apt.

As a fitting end to DfV, I need to relate some hilarious circumstances that Mackey and I were privy to last evening. Now admittedly, DfV started strong but tapered off towards the last couple of days due to circumstances beyond our control. Shit happens. Fortunately we were able to make a suitable rally last night at The Hill.

The Hill, like many such places, has a challenge for patrons regarding its wing sauce. Nothing new there as I said, but last night was a real gem. Towards the higher end of the Scoville Scale, you will find a nasty little bastard called a Ghost Pepper. This vile nuke is beyond my taste buds, and I'm a hot sauce fanatic in general.

Anyhoo, we are enjoying a tasty meal, cold beverages, and in my case a large glass of delicious bourbon...the bar was not packed by any means, when some young folk at the bar decide to fuck up their evenings completely by participating in the challenge. To be brief, what started as a night of modest drinking ended in a gastro-holocaust for these two. One guy began in earnest, consuming three before breaking out in a sweat, drooling, and eventually puking in a hastily provided trash can. No amount of water, and later-milk- could help. The kitchen staff came out to scorn this well-meaning young man(read: laugh their asses off) before he put his head down in defeat. The kicker is that his friend looked upon this goddamn farce and decided "Hey, I want some of that." Set upon this course, he at least made it to the bathroom before puking all over the damn place. They went down faster than a cheap whore on check day.

Folks, these challenges...from large steaks, to hot sauce consumption...are invitations to defeat. Much like a casino, the house usually wins. These two defeated warriors slinked off with their friends to an evening filled with heartburn, hallucinations, and toilet paper usage. Even now I suspect they still have a 'lava tube' effect going on.

To sum up, these kids(clearly students) probably learned a lesson...and they'll remember that more than any exam or test during finals week. Welcome academic probation!


  1. Those poor bastards. No thanks.

  2. I mean, what constitutes victory? I don't care for mega hot sauces, but damned if they will kill me. He ate three of the damned wings? Does that not mean he wins? Who makes the rules? This is all bullshit.

    Just this past week I got a powerful snoot full of fumes from muriatic acid mixed with aluminum shavings. Do I win the challenge because I was able to remove the embedded aluminum from my dremel bits inspite of the caustic fumes I inhaled whilst dipping them in the acid? Why was I removing embedded aluminum shavings from my dremel bits?

    That is MY business.

  3. Well...if you sign on for a contest that says eat six wings, and you manage half that sum, you don't achieve the objective. Fail.

    And what you snort for jollies is your own damn affair.

  4. So the challenge is that they make wings that are so shitty, you can't eat six.

    Eat my rancid wings! If you gulp 'em all down, you don't have to pay for them!

  5. You're a wing snob, yes we've all known this sir. God knows you've consumed enough of them.