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Hmmm.... So This Is What It Feels Like To Have A Red Hot Poker In The Anus

Warning - this product may cause blindness, insanity or death. Oh, and it will make your anus feel like Hades.jpeg

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Submitted by JoeyG at 2007-01-30 10:49:12 ESTRating: 1.86 on 102 ratings (102 reviews) ( Review this item ) ( V “It’s the little things that put the spice in life.”Bollocks.It’s the fucking red hot jalapeño peppers, the Scotch Bonnet chillies and insanity sauces that put the spice in life.I’ve always loved me some hot and spicy food. In fact, I pretty much heat up everything I eat in one way or another. Tabasco sauce in tomato soup. Raw chillies in a chicken salad. I love it.Suffice to say, I’ve built up a hefty tolerance to the hot stuff. What I would consider to be a mild chilli con carne would cripple most grown men, and my homemade curries could be considered dangerous for consumption.My local curry house knows me so well, that when my number appears on their caller I.D, they simply pick up the phone and say “yep, chicken Phaal, extra heat and rice. Be about half hour, Joey.”Any time, day or night, just gimme the heat. I’ve eaten Vindaloo for breakfast on several occasions, and I use my limited edition Hardman hot sauce to spice up a sandwich.There’s nothing that I can’t handle.I’m a Bruce Lee of the culinary kind.Hard as fuck.Or so I thought.Friday night saw my brother’s 30th birthday, and although I can’t stand him and his circle of friends, I thought I better show my face.After visiting a few of the pubs in town, we decided it was time to get something to eat. The chosen venue was a new curry house that had just opened, which suited me fine.The restaurant itself was nice. They even had ‘beer towers’, which I’d never come across before. For people who don’t know, these things are the ultimate shit. They hold 9 pints of your chosen lager, which is kept cool by the frosted thermos tower walls. Every time you finish your glass, just help yourself to more out of the tap at the bottom of the tower. Brilliant.But it wasn’t just the choice of drinking vessels that had attracted us to this particular restaurant.No.It was me. Me and my big fucking mouth.“That new curry place has got an offer on. They reckon they do a dish so hot that if one person can eat it all, your whole group eats for free. C’mon, I’ll eat it all. Piece of piss.”I was so certain that I even told people not to bother getting any more cash out of the ATM’s, because there’s no way we would have to pay. I’m the fucking curry king, me.They gave me a few dubious looks, but I was supremely confident in my quest. I’d never been beaten yet, and I wasn’t about to start now.We went inside, and after we had settled down with our drinks, the waiter came over to take the order.“Yeah, I’ll have the ‘hot’ curry you do. I’ll finish it, no problem.”“Are you sure?”“Listen, I know what I’m talking about. Bring it on!”After taking everyone else’s order, he proceeded to the kitchen, where I’m sure I heard the fuckers laughing. Well, I’ll fucking show them…..When the food arrived, I was the last to be served. I think this may have just been done for effect, as when the guy came through the kitchen door with my meal, he was holding it away from his body, as if it was a bomb that was about to go off.What he placed down in front of me was like no other curry I had ever seen before. It was almost black, and the surface was bubbling away, giving it the impression of a boiling tar pit. I got a whiff of the stuff, and I could almost feel the hairs in my nose begin to melt. Oh well, no turning back now.I picked up my fork, and tentatively speared a piece of chicken that was poking up from the depths of the deathly looking sauce. I suddenly became aware of the faces that had appeared at the little round window that led to the kitchen, reminding of that scene from Jurassic Park. The 2 guys behind the drinks bar appeared to be having some sort of bet.I put the chicken in my mouth and began to chew. I was expecting it to be hot. What I wasn’t expecting was for my mouth to explode with intense, agonising heat, that seemed to seep upwards and into my brain in a matter of seconds.I remained calm and collected on the outside, not wanting to give the game away. On the inside, my tongue felt like it was having contractions, and my gums were bleeding molten lava. After what seemed like eternity, I had sufficiently chewed the offending piece of meat to consistency that I could swallow. The sauce on the chicken burned my throat, and I could feel it as it slid down my gullet and headed towards my stomach.“Mmmm, not bad, not bad at all,” I said, reaching swiftly for my pint glass, and trying to casually neck the entire contents without looking desperate.I piled up another fork load, and shoved it into my mouth, determined to chew and swallow as quick as possible to avoid the agonising heat that was still trying to melt away my face from the inside. Already I could feel beads of perspiration popping out across my forehead.My brain was screaming out to me. This was madness! For fuck’s sake, don’t carry on!But personal pride is a motherfucker. And seeing as nobody even had any money on them, I wasn’t about to spend the next 6 months washing dishes for these Indian fuckwits.I managed another few mouthfuls in quick succession, but by now sweat was streaming down my face, and my calm composure was completely gone. I was having to down nearly a whole pint of beer between each mouthful just to put the flames out.I got about half way through, and I was in pain. My lips were stinging, my eyes were streaming, and my throat felt like I had drunk a gallon of drain cleaner. I pushed the bowl away, and the watching waiter came over to the table.“So, you cant finish the meal, no? Well, you’ll have to pay….. You should be proud though, that was a good attempt. Just not good enough…..”Right. Fuck you. I’m not being beaten by these assholes.I grabbed the bowl and pulled it back in front of me. What the hell was I doing?I pushed on, tackling the dish one mouthful at a time, pausing after each swallow to drink more and more. My tower was starting to run low already.But by this point, I was on a mission. The pain began to become irrelevant. I picked up speed, getting a second wind, and started piling 3 or 4 bits of meat into my mouth in one go. I was really going to do it!5 minutes later, I was wiping up the last of the sauce with a bit of naan bread, and I held the bowl aloft, like a hunter with a prized trophy.“Ha! Fuck you guys, all done!”The waiter came and checked the bowl, and looked at me like I was some sort of maniac.We left the restaurant, and I got a taxi back home, where I passed out and dreamed some seriously trippy shit.The following morning I was in no need of an alarm clock. My stomach was churning, and making noises that surely weren’t natural. As I swung my legs out of bed, I doubled up in pain, and squatted down on bent knees. Already I could feel my colon starting to contract, and as my stomach gave another mystical churn, I wondered if I would make it to the toilet in time.I crawled naked on my hands and knees along the landing, cursing myself for being such a stupid bastard. I could see the toilet through the open bathroom door, taunting me like a despotic tyrant would taunt a prisoner who was just about to be executed.As I reached the door, my stomach let out another gurgle of pre-explosion turmoil, and my passage began to open up against it’s will. It was coming whether I wanted it to or not.I leapt up from the floor, and cleared the remaining distance in the air, landing on the toilet and hugging the cistern and shaking – I hadn’t had the time to turn around.I had just made it, but I wished I hadn’t.It was like a brown river had just burst a dam, and it’s raging torrents were now free to cause havoc and destruction.As the curry had burnt my mouth the night before, my wretched bodily waste would now rain fire and brimstone on my ravaged rectal passage. The searing heat radiated through my intestines, and you could have fried an egg on my ass crack.I hugged the cistern tighter, and prayed for it all to be over, prayed for the pain to stop. Even when my bowels had been fully evacuated, I couldn’t bear to wipe at first. I reached a hand up to the cabinet, and pulled out a handful of cotton wool. Then, leaning over to the sink, I soaked the cotton with fresh, cold water.The cool refreshing cotton helped, but it still didn’t completely take away the fire that still burning relentlessly away. 45 minutes later, I managed to clean up the remaining mess, but I was to walk like John Wayne for the remainder of the day.Later that evening, I paid the curry house another visit.“Seriously, guys – what did you put in that thing? You could run a fucking power plant on that stuff.”The chef went into the kitchen, and came back with a small black bottle. The top on the bottle was actually a golden skull. It looked like a bottle of poison from a dark fairy tale.“Blair’s 6 a.m reserve”, he said in a deep grave like voice. “Only a thousand bottles ever made. It’s the closest you can get to pure Capsaicin without it becoming crystalline. Tabasco sauce is about 2000 Scoville units. This stuff registers in at nearly 16 million Scovilles. I had to sign a disclaimer just to get it. One drop in a gallon of water will produce extreme heat. We put several drops in your curry alone!”“You bastards! That’s attempted murder.”“No, my friend. That’s just business. We wouldn’t make any money if we had everybody getting free meals.”I resisted the overwhelming urge to punch him in the face, and left the restaurant, and vowed never to return.Blair’s 6 am reserve – it’s a little bit of death in a bottle.