Too Hot to Handle!

“No, Chad! You know this isn’t right!” She screamed from a distance. But it was too late.

Chad turned his head. “I’m sorry, Stacy.”  Thoughts of regret filled his mind as he opened the doors of Marcos' Wingeria. The fumes of the restaurant made his eyes water.

Chad knew he hated spicy foods. Stacy knew it too. Virtually everyone knew. His mouth was so spice intolerant, that the mere mention of hot sauce made him sweat like a hippo. 

Even though he hated spicy food, Cole had challenged him to eat here, the home of the spiciest wings in town, and Chad had to accept. Chad wasn’t a wuss, or at least, he couldn’t let others think that. “It’s just some wings. It’ll be fun,” he thought.

As Stacy walked on the parking lot, she continued to ask herself one question. “Why, Chad?! You’re the same person that said bell peppers were the ‘devil incarnate. The same man who thought vanilla ice cream with cinnamon was spicy!  You know this! And yet, you do it anyway.”

While Stacy continued her imaginary argument with her fiancé, Chad walked into the restaurant. The wood flooring creaked with every nervous footstep, his ears penetrated by the sounds of laughing children and pop music from the sound system. 

“Hello sir, welcome to Marcos' Wingeria! How May I help you?” 

 “Is there a table for five under the name ‘Cole’?” As the lady looked in the registration book, Stacy whispered into Chad’s ear. “It’s not too late to bail and go somewhere else to eat,” she said.

“Follow me, please.” The lady started walking away from the counter. The two followed her, looking for a table with three guys.

“YOOO, CHAD!” Hollered a voice from across the restaurant. It was followed by more shouting from two other voices. The lady led them to the table, which included three guys who were shouting and clapping. “The waiter will be with you shortly to get your drinks!” She said as she quickly walked away from the cacophony.

Chad and Stacy sat down to face their friend group. “Yo, are you ready to build up your heat tolerance, buddy?!” said the man in the black leather jacket with black hair. “Yeah, Cole. I’m ready...I guess.” Chad said nervously. He took off his baseball cap and fanned himself with it.

“Don’t worry, man. We have two gallons of milk, a tub of ice cream, and emotional support,” said a blonde-haired man at the corner of the table.

 “Yeah, I don’t know about ‘emotional support’, Clyde,” snorted another guy who was sitting beside Clyde, brushing his short hair. Clyde adjusted his glasses and glanced at him with mild irritation, while the last person at the table snickered.

“Don’t worry about Darnell, Chad. You’ll be just fine,” said Clyde with a reassuring grin. “Oh and hi, Stacy!” 

“Stacy, our favorite girl, what’s up!?” said Darnell, waving. Stacy waved at Clyde, Darnell, and Cole, trying to be civil even though they’re making Chad go through his least favorite form of torture.

“So, what’s the dare?” asked Chad, still sweating from both fear and fumes. Cole and Darnell responded with devious smiles while Clyde gave him a nervous one.

“First, we start small, then I'll order the hottest, spiciest, most scorching wings they have!” Cole’s amber eyes turned wild like a dancing fire, piercing Chad’s heart immediately. Chad sat back, his blue eyes staring back with bone-chilling fear. Cole sensed this and calmed down. “If it’s worth anything, it’s all on me,” Cole said. Chad was a bit relieved but was still fanning himself with his hat.

“Wow, Cole! That’s nice of you!” said a surprised Stacy. Cole simply shrugged. 

“This is all for Chad’s own good. We can’t have him sweating from bell peppers,” said Darnell with a chuckle. Clyde and Cole held back a snicker. Stacy looked away to laugh, pretending to look for their waiter. Luckily, he had just arrived.

“Good afternoon, sirs and madam. I’m Cress, and I’ll be your waiter today. Shall I start you off with some drinks?” 

“Oh no, we brought our own drinks!” Darnell said, holding up a gallon of milk. “ We’re here on a mission!”

“A mission? And what would that be?” Cress asked with a puzzled look as he handed out all of the utensils and napkins. It was then that Cole smacked his hands down on the table, startling everyone, including the waiter. 

“Bring us a list of your spiciest stuff, please!” he said with that with the same fire in his eyes. The waiter turned to him and smiled. 

“I’ll get a list right away!” After putting down the utensils, he rushed to the kitchen. A couple seconds later, he ran back and put a list on the table. “You’re not the first person to ask. So, complimentary of Marcos' Wingeria, we provide a list of our hottest menu items.” Cole grabbed the menu and started skimming through the items. As he skimmed, his mouth curled into a devious grin. He gave the menu back and pointed to a specific item. 

“We’ll start with THIS one!” he said, peering at Chad. Chad didn’t know what he picked, but he knew he wouldn’t like it.

“Excellent choice, sir!” said the waiter as he returned to the kitchen.

Chad squirmed in his seat and looked at Cole. “What did you order?” Cole simply winked at Chad. Chad didn’t like that. Clyde nervously laughed at the interaction. Sure, Chad’s pain is funny in small doses, but pity is a terrible feeling. Clyde pushed the feeling of pity out of his mind. 

Stacy leaned toward Chad’s ear and whispered, “It’s not too late to bail while you have the chance.” She moved her hand to his to reassure him. Chad smiled at the gesture but firmly planted himself in his seat. There was no turning back. Besides, free food is free food, even if it is painful. While most of the group bantered about the food or the next baseball game, Chad’s body was almost motionless in fear.

Eight agonizing minutes later, the waiter held two baskets of golden brown fowl with a perfectly covered blanket of a red, thick liquid. The tangy, sweet aroma of a homestyle barbeque wafted through the noses of everyone in the area. Everyone except Chad, who felt a zing of heat and spice invade his nostrils.

“Here’s some barbeque hot wings! Sweet and zesty. I hope you all enjoy the wings, and let me know if you need anything else!” said Cress, walking away after he put the baskets on the table. Clyde’s hands gravitated towards the wings as if hypnotized by the sight and scent. 

“No, no! Chad tries first!” said Cole, pushing the wings in front of Chad. “Go on, Chad. Try one.” Chad stared at the wings a bit before looking away, like someone who stares at the sun for too long. Time slowed down as Chad picked up a leg with trembling fingers. Eyes were glued on him, everyone wondering if he would bite or not. The leg was just a millimeter away before Chad opened his mouth and bit down, tearing a piece of flesh.

Flames marched in his mouth like a parade of demons were tap-dancing on his tongue. His face was drenched with sweat while his armpits turned into waterfalls. Everyone was stifling a laugh from Chad’s contorted face and the pools of sweat forming around him, all from one bite.

The others took some pieces as well, and unlike Chad, the sweet, tangy sauce complemented the chicken well. Sweet, but with heat. “Mmmm, this is really good!” said Stacy, who was on her second wing. While Stacy and the others scarfed down their food, Chad was still inching his way down the flesh of the chicken, with every bite a fireball that felt like they left scorch marks on his tongue and throat. 

By the time Clyde, Darnell, Stacy, and Cole finished the two baskets, Chad had finally finished his single leg. The others clapped at Chad’s feat and Cole patted Chad on the back and said,  “Good job, Chad. You handled this better than you did those bell peppers last week!” Chad smiled but soon started mouth breathing to cool off his painfully scorched tongue. Darnell handed Chad a glass of milk, which Chad drank in one gulp. 

“Alright, what’s next on the menu?” said Cole as he looked at the menu. Chad’s eyes practically popped out of their sockets at the idea of more spicy food. Cole glanced and smirked. “You didn’t think we’d stop, did you? We have more wings to try. Unless you’re a coward?” Chad stared back like a kicked puppy. He didn’t want to. But he had to. He can’t be known as the coward who can’t handle bell peppers. He sat up straight in his chair and faked a smile. 

“Okay, what’s next?” Chad said. Cole flashed a smile and patted him on the shoulder. Just then, the waiter came back.

“Is there anything else you all would like?” asked Cress. Cole slid the menu to Cress and pointed to another item. 

“With or without wasabi sauce?” 

“With, of course.”

“Yes sir, I’ll only be a moment,” said Cress, leaving once again to the kitchen. The mention of wasabi made Chad tremble in fear. If bell peppers were satan-incarnate, wasabi was the entirety of the underworld, packed into a sickly green paste. Stacy could sense his nervousness and kissed Chad on the cheek.

“Don’t worry. It’ll all be over. And look at the bright side. You ate an entire chicken leg with barbeque sauce! That’s a feat!” said Stacy, patting Chad on the back. Chad nodded and gave a proud smile. Sure, his mouth was practically the surface of the sun, but he survived. Looking around the table, he saw that Clyde and Darnell had stopped chatting to give him a thumbs-up. Sure, they are torturing him, but it was nice to know that they didn’t hate him. He then looked at Cole, who was looking at the menu with a massive smile. Never a good sign.

The group began to chat to pass the time. During their talk about Chad and Stacy’s wedding next summer, the food had just arrived. Two baskets with multiple skewers of chicken grilled to a light brown and sprinkled with sesame seeds. Cress then laid out a big dish of a pale green dip in the middle of the table. “Here’s grilled sesame chicken skewers with a side of our special wasabi dip. It’s filled with various spices to give the dip an extra kick! I hope you enjoy it!”

After the waiter left, Cole grabbed a skewer and dipped all of the chicken in the sauce before putting the skewer in front of Chad. Chad grabbed the skewer. Just the smell made Chad’s nose runny. He closed his eyes and took a bite.

As he chewed, he began to open his eyes. The thick sauce was like a blanket on his mouth, a thick, warm layer. He could taste the tender chicken under the sauce and almost smiled at the flavor. 

“Three….two….one,” said Darnell.

Immediately afterward, the sizzle turned into a burn that felt like his tongue was being roasted on a skillet. As he swallowed, it felt like his nose was about to erupt in lava and flames. The pressure and heat on his nose were so great, he felt like he was breathing streams of fire. But instead of fire, he could feel the mucus and tears pour from his nose and eyes. He tearfully looked at the skewer. Five pieces left. 

“Chad, let me repeat. You don’t have to do this.” Chad tore his eyes from the meat and looked at Stacy. She took a napkin and wiped some of the mucus and tears off of his face as she ate her own skewer. She flinched from the heat, but smiled, almost laughing at the pain. Chad almost smiled, but he was in constant pain. Clyde cooed at the sight of the couple. Darnell and Cole smiled, but they weren’t going to let him off. 

“Look, this is cute and all, but you’re not finished,” said Cole. Chad looked at Cole and then back at his skewer. Begrudgingly, he ate each piece one by one. After five minutes of painful pseudo-fire breathing, he was given more milk. He chugged it all and laid his head down.

Everyone else had started eating after.  Mid-chew, Cole said, “Okay, last dish, then we can go.”

“NO!” Chad said. Everyone at the table jumped, partially because they didn’t expect him to speak, but also because he said no. Stacy clapped at his assertiveness.

“C’mon, man. One more!”

“No!”

“You said you would!”

Chad raised his head up, his face painted with confusion. Cole held in a laugh when he saw the mucus still dripping. “I never said that!” 

“Well, I dare you to do one more dish!” 

Chad thought and asked, “If I do, can we get ice cream?” Stacy facepalmed. Darnell lifted up a big tub of rocky road ice cream. “It’s all yours, pal. IF, you eat one more thing.” They knew him well. Rocky road was Chad’s favorite.

Chad’s expression of blank despair turned into child-like whimsy and excitement. “DEAL!” he said loudly,  getting the attention of other tables. A sweaty man with mucus hanging down his face was a strange sight. After the shock, Cole smiled a devilish smile, excited at what would happen next.

About fifteen minutes later, they had finished their serving of skewers and the waiter had returned. “Are you ready for another round?” Cress said.

“This is the last one,” Cole said, pointing at an item on the menu. Cress read the item and gasped. 

Cress took the menu and turned it over, revealing a waiver and putting a pen on the table. “We’ll happily serve you, but please sign here for...reasons.” Cole looked at everyone around the table to see that everyone was wide-eyed at the surprise waiver. 

“Umm, okay?” he said, signing the waiver. Cress took the menu. “I’ll be back shortly.” He went to the kitchen once again. Worry was all over Chad’s face as he started sweating uncontrollably again. Cole choked out some nervous laughter. Everyone sat in silence and mentally prepared before the food arrived.

The waiter came back holding a covered plate with gloved hands. He set it down on the table

“This is the spiciest item we have on the menu. The sauce is made from a combination of the Trinidad Moruga Scorpion, the Naga Viper, and the Carolina Reaper and our special wasabi,” Cress said as he lifted the cover, revealing wings so hot they looked like they were glowing.

“It’s called ‘The Wings of a Reaper’.Good luck!” Cress left as the group stared at the tray of wings. The solid, deep red coloring made the wings seem simple, yet so powerful. Everyone looked at each other, wondering who would take the first bite.

“How about we eat it at the same time?” asked Stacy. She picked up a wing. It exuded an aroma that can only be described as “hot”. No spices, just “hot”. Cole grabbed a leg and held it near his mouth, tears pouring from his eyes from the smell. Clyde nervously grabbed a wing as he began to reconsider his life choices. Darnell put all of the milk and ice cream on the table in advance and grabbed a wing. Lastly, Chad grabbed a leg. 

“So, this is how I die. Poultry,” he thought. 

Stacy counted down.

“One…

Two…

Three!”

They all took a bite simultaneously. As they chewed, they looked at each other to see how everyone was doing. Chad was handling it poorly. Mucus, teas, and sweat were pouring from his body as he silently suffered. 

Then, the explosion. Well, two explosions.

One, the massive fireball in their mouths. The sun was not equal to how hot this was. It was like breathing fire and gasoline and allowing the mixture to explode in one’s mouth. Like the devil himself decided to live in your mouth. An amalgam of spices hit their nostrils like a truck, as everyone started streaming that mucus, sweat, and tears. The second explosion was Chad, who was screaming like he was set on fire. The screaming, crying man walked around the table, periodically beating the table. The heat only got more intense.

“COLE, WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS!?” Stacy screamed through tears. Cole’s face was scrunched in pain from the intense heat and the loud screaming from Chad. “I’m sorry! Agh, it gets worse!”

“WE KNOW!” said Chad as he screamed some more. He reached for the milk and chugged the entire gallon of milk. Relief flooded Chad’s senses as he drank the creamy, cold dairy product. Darnell tried to claw at the milk but Chad pushed him away. Clyde reached for another milk jug and poured some in a glass before chugging himself. Stacy grabbed the glass and drank, savoring every drop of sweet relief. Their mouths were still hot, but it was manageable. Chad finally sat down.

“Give me that!” Darnell said, grabbing the jug too fast and pouring some on Cole. An angry Cole tried to grab the milk, leading to a tug of war between Cole and Darnell. In the process, more milk was spilled during the struggle. Clyde, Stacy, and Chad snickered through the pain as Cole and Carnell got milk all over themselves. Frantically, they poured what little they had into two glasses and drank.

Everyone at the table looked at the aftermath. Spilled milk and two empty milk jugs on the table, along with wings that were too hot to eat. They all stared at the mess on the table.

Finally, Chad grabbed and opened the tub of ice cream. “Let’s agree to never do this again.”

“AGREED!”