Article content continued

At Guelph Collegiate Vocational Institute, two other Simpsons fans heard about what was about to happen and decided to throw their hats in the ring.

Enter Tim Kramer.

Here was a teen who had eaten a pound of sugar in one sitting and devoured two dozen butter tarts for fun. Whenever someone asked if he was hungry, Kramer would notoriously reply with a wink.

“I was conflicted over whether those were true stories or whether that was psychological warfare,” Dunseith says.

Cheesefest appealed to Kramer.

“I would think Cheesefest is an excellent alternative for society to cock fights,” Kramer says. “You watch people eat cheese until they can’t handle it anymore. How’s that for civilized bloodsport?”

Dunseith, Hammond, Kramer and the fourth competitor, Scotty Nightingale, gathered on the night of a house party, and faced the audience like they were performing at a concert. Dunseith wore a bright orange t-shirt. Kramer wore a straw cowboy hat with “Cheesefest” written across the centre.

You watch people eat cheese until they can’t handle it anymore. How’s that for civilized bloodsport?

If you ask Kramer, the only reason he lost Cheesefest was because of “unfair circumstance.” Kramer had to go home after eating 41 slices to make his curfew. Dunseith had all night to eat one more slice and win.

Getting there wasn’t as easy as eating the final slice. Dunseith had to throw up after 20 slices but couldn’t. He refused to stick his finger down his throat so did the next logical thing. It wasn’t quitting.

A pale Dunseith began spinning in circles to nauseate himself. At it for more than one minute, the purge only came after his manager began waving a Spice Girls doll in his direction, “trying to draw the cheese out of me.”