A calm rolled over the participants and audience. Rain clouds blocked out the sun and small droplets started to fall from the sky. The elders of the chilli-head community all knew what these signs meant. They had seen it before in many other cities. The Defcon Deathmatch had arrived.

The participants signed the weaver stating that their common sense has temporarily taken leave as Defcon, bullhorn in hand, went over the rules. All wings must be cleaned within the set time limit and raise you hand when finished, after which you can drink anything but dairy products for a brief period. Then you have to keep your hands down on the table for 5 minutes straight. The first person to do all this wins. Let the games begin!

Danny signs away the rights to his tongue.

Death has a face and you’re looking at it.

OM NOM NOM NOM!

Everyone plowed into their wings like a pack of ravenous wolves but by the end of the first wing, most of them were convulsing and starting to slow. Even last years champ couldn’t keep up. Wing after wing was torn apart, some even breaking the bones to get to the meat faster.

You are supposed to eat the wing, not brush your teeth with it.

In an astonishing feat, HUDD (who has entered the match many times before in different locations and placed 2nd most every time) was the first one to finish. I don’t think I have ever seen a human being eat so fast in my life. He was determined to win this year.

HUDD was the first one to finish his plate of death.

More and more people finished and started their puny attempts at putting out a fire that burned with the fury of a thousand suns. One guy had a whole pitcher of iced tea and drank the entire thing. Well, drank what reached his mouth that is. It’s kind of hard to drink when you are shacking that violently.

This guy never put his pitcher down.

Time was called and the hands were placed on the table. Now the true endurance challenge started. Arms quivered, drool and snot started to flow, tears of pain rolled down cheeks. HUDD sat across from his son, Danny, and smiled with approval as his son died a little inside every second that went by, symbolizing the right of passage that had been years in the making. Danny entered the contest a boy and he was going to leave it a man.

Father and son, bonding with pain. Ya, we pepper freaks are a strange bunch.

She got really puffy, really fast.

Hold on, Danny. Hold on!

All of a sudden someone yelled, “LOOK AT THAT!!!” and I swung my camera around to catch what I hopped was someone about to vomit. What I captured was worse…..much worse. This gentleman was later nicknamed, “Snotilicious”. The following pictures are not for the week of stomach.

Is that a bugger? No it’s snot.

This made the whole audience go “awwwwwwww”.

I thought a squid was trying to escape his nose at this point.

Hehehehe, he’s leaking brain lubricant.

The bell rang and the dust settled. A proud champion cautiously arouse from his chair to claim his rightful prize (a 5 foot trophy adorned with a horses ass, a chicken, and a beautiful woman holding up the Defcon logo). HUDD had finally came in 1st for a Defcon Deathmatch!!!

HUDD proudly holds his trophy high.

Some of the audience members foolishly asked for a wing to sample. At first they didn’t think it was that hot. Well, let’s just let the pictures speak for themselves on this one.

I don’t see the big deal about these wings….

Oh…..never mind….AHHHHH!!!

People started to stagger away from the table, moaning and groaning while eating the ice cream sandwiches that were passed out. Danny was giggling away in his chair and I heard him say, “Hey dad, I think I’m getting that endorphin rush everyone talks about”. He then stood up and proceeded to almost fall over, nearly taking the table with him. He was seated back in his chair by the helpful folks around him where he proceeded to laugh his ass off for the next few minutes. Thus showing that a good capsaicin induced endorphin rush is equivalent to coming down off of a fourth of an ounce of psilocybin.

Danny demonstrates why we do these things.

All in all, this was an amazing contest. Defcon was really out to make someone vomit this year but everyone finished with the contents of their stomachs intact. He’ll have to do some serious tweaking of the recipe next year, because like him, I want to see half the table and some audience members loose it.

Check back tomorrow for my next installment of the Weekend of Fire!