I know we have quite a few HSBer’s that have done this. So you can probably relate to this story. For you future contestants, I hope you take some of this story to heart for you may not be ready to try this truly diabolical event.
The anticipation for this was high. So was the trepidation. It is one of those things that you know you are about to do something ridiculous against your own better judgement. Something that the guys from Jackass would do.
What made things worse was that I had tried some of the Zero the night before, so I doubly knew that this wasn’t a good idea. But being the host city for this DeathMatch there was no way I was going to back out of it.
Once we arrived at the Bishop and the Belcher I sat around and mingled, had some beers and watched everyone have a great time enjoying “normal” wings (Defcon 1,2,3). This may have been one the good things I did in retrospect as if I had a meal before hand I wouldn’t have been able to scarf down the wings during the match.
At around 6:45 there was a noticeable change in the air (and it wasn’t Nick’s bad gas). The Creator and Createss had started preparing the Death Match Sauce and wow did it ever clear out everyone’s nose at the Pub. Shortly after the Death Arena was set-up the match was announced.
All the preliminary details, liability waivers and a good deal of trash talking quickly ensued and vanished as the first of seven plates for 7 contestants were laid out.
The course of events over the next 3 minutes and 35 seconds are kind of blurred. I knew I was off to a great start and had finished off the first few wings before the others really got started. There was no time to see the competition. Just focus on the task at hand.
Around the 6th wing I ran into my first wall. The heat was setting in and I had way to much poultry mashed into my mouth. I was then able to take what I think was my only sip of beer of the match. It was also the first time that I noticed that Sporto was holding his own. I grabbed two more wings and finished them. Here came the 2nd wall. I was in quite a bit of pain from the heat but the toughest part was eating the wing. I was full of food. A quick glance to see that I had to make a sprint to the finished line I finished off wing #9, resisted the urge to throw it up and polished off #10. DONE!
Well not really. I now had to wait for the 5:00 minutes to expire for the other contestants to finished and the wait ANOTHER 5:00 with my hands on the table. No wiping off the Zero covering my face and burning my skin. No wiping the tears streaming from my eyes. No raising my hands to take a sip of beer. That was one of the longest 5:00 minutes I can remember.
When all was said and done there were three finishers. A new record for contestants completing a Death Match. Two contestants didn’t even get past two wings. I was presented with the 1st place prize, received a certificate and have a personalized shirt from the Creator himself. Above all I have the bragging rights.
The following hours also became a bit of a blur. I had to get a glass of milk and wash my face in it. I could barely take a sip of beer (I don’t drink milk BTW). Each sip seemed to wash up some Zero that lodged somewhere in my mouth.
Shortly there after the stomach cramps started. We went back to our place to continue the party but I spent most of it in the bathroom. After an hour of false calls there was a lurch in my stomach that told me I was on the toilet the wrong way. These wings had other intentions and wanted to give me one last taste. Everything came back up. Including the Zero. That mixed with gastric juice made me feel like I had just chugged down some Drano. This out of all things was probably my saving grace for the next day. As whatever I brought up freed me what could have been a horrible morning the next day.
For Huvason who holds the speed record and Nick who has the quantity record and to the people that have done this more than once, I salute you. If you have the stomach for it and the opportunity, a Defcon Death Match could be one of crowning achievements for any chili-head.