It was definitely an experience! The wings came in a thick, gritty soup of hot sauce. First bite, windpipe became constricted. Not unbearably hot though. Oh, it burned, but I had more painful heat from a little green pepper my dad fed me a week earlier. The hot sauce burned everywhere — fingers, lips, cheeks, mouth, stomach, and (later) asshole. The wings were hard to swallow — I could only finish 3 in 10 minutes. Connie did 5!

The aftermath: I had massive stomach pain and threw up later that night. My stomach decided to empty itself like I was drunk or something.

Connie’s stomach was fine, but her taste buds were fucked up for a couple days. She said things tasted sour. I guess I’m glad that didn’t happen to me! I knew Connie wouldn’t have any problems with the heat. She sucks down hot stuff better than I can!

I took home as much of the sauce as I could. I’ve been putting it on everything. I keep craving the shit, and it’s fine until it hits my stomach, at which point it seems to catch my asshole on fire as it shoots out of it.

What I learned: Not being a competitive eater at all, I didn’t think I could finish 12 wings that quickly, but I knew I could take the heat. I gotta keep training, is all. My next strategy for the challenge: suck the sauce off the wing and use it to wash down the previous bite. Now where around here do they serve wings for cheap?