the flaming lips
So last night Jason had a chili cook-off. He made the mistake of saying he'd give out prizes for the best chili, most unique, hottest, etc. I make a pretty good chili, but I wasn't sure I could pull off "Best Chili", so I decided I'd take home the prize for hottest instead, because you can't just go to this sort of thing. You have to throw down. There's no sense doing something if you're not going to do it right.
I went home for lunch yesterday and set a pot of my mom's chicken chili going in the crockpot, and then came back to work and picked up:
Bear repellent.
It's just pepper spray, with some propellant and other assorted unhealthy bits in there. I figure, if it'll stop a charging grizzly bear at twenty paces, it ought to make a pretty mean chili, right?
I packed up my backpack and brought a couple of cases of beer by way of apology and then showed up at Jason's place, where there were thirty or forty people in attendance. My chicken chili, unadulterated, was a pretty big hit, and after everyone ate their fill I picked up a bowl of it and brought it into the back yard to spice it up a little. I put on the protective gear, pulled out the bear-Mace, and nuked it good. At this point everyone's jaws were pretty much dropped. I stirred it up and brought it inside and put a notecard on it that said "DANGER DO NOT EAT THIS CHILI NOT FOR HUMAN CONSUMPTION". And after I brought it inside, Bob's wife, whose name I forget, goes:
"Ahem."
And the person standing next to her clears his throat, too. And then, like a chili-miasma radiating outward, forty people start coughing and hacking and making for the exits. It didn't affect me much besides a little tickle in my throat, and a fit of hysterical laughter as people ran outside. There were tears in my eyes, but they were definitely from laughing.
Most everyone else was laughing, too. Those that weren't, well, it's not my fault if they can't take a joke. I felt a little bad about clearing the house, but after I brought the toxic chili outside and vented the house for ten minutes, it was fine inside. I left the nuclear bowl outside for an hour, and then brought it in and it was fine. I had to taste it, of course, and Jason and Chris tried some, too. Turns out it wasn't the hottest thing I'd ever eaten, but it was close.
And, you know, the worst part was Jason got the "Hottest Chili" award, because nobody would eat mine. I did get "Most Unique", though, as well as "Best Presentation". I guess I'm okay with that.
I went home for lunch yesterday and set a pot of my mom's chicken chili going in the crockpot, and then came back to work and picked up:
- Rubber gloves
- Welding mask
- Tyvek haz-mat suit
- Respirator
Bear repellent.
It's just pepper spray, with some propellant and other assorted unhealthy bits in there. I figure, if it'll stop a charging grizzly bear at twenty paces, it ought to make a pretty mean chili, right?
I packed up my backpack and brought a couple of cases of beer by way of apology and then showed up at Jason's place, where there were thirty or forty people in attendance. My chicken chili, unadulterated, was a pretty big hit, and after everyone ate their fill I picked up a bowl of it and brought it into the back yard to spice it up a little. I put on the protective gear, pulled out the bear-Mace, and nuked it good. At this point everyone's jaws were pretty much dropped. I stirred it up and brought it inside and put a notecard on it that said "DANGER DO NOT EAT THIS CHILI NOT FOR HUMAN CONSUMPTION". And after I brought it inside, Bob's wife, whose name I forget, goes:
"Ahem."
And the person standing next to her clears his throat, too. And then, like a chili-miasma radiating outward, forty people start coughing and hacking and making for the exits. It didn't affect me much besides a little tickle in my throat, and a fit of hysterical laughter as people ran outside. There were tears in my eyes, but they were definitely from laughing.
Most everyone else was laughing, too. Those that weren't, well, it's not my fault if they can't take a joke. I felt a little bad about clearing the house, but after I brought the toxic chili outside and vented the house for ten minutes, it was fine inside. I left the nuclear bowl outside for an hour, and then brought it in and it was fine. I had to taste it, of course, and Jason and Chris tried some, too. Turns out it wasn't the hottest thing I'd ever eaten, but it was close.
And, you know, the worst part was Jason got the "Hottest Chili" award, because nobody would eat mine. I did get "Most Unique", though, as well as "Best Presentation". I guess I'm okay with that.