-----------------------------------
The Challenge
-----------------------------------
This story is dedicated to the
inaugural HMS Jumbo Burger Challenge team:
·
“Coach”
Dan Koch
·
“Assistant
Coach/Videographer” Rick Schultz
·
Dustin
“Don’t Talk to Me While I’m Eating” Miller
·
Jim
“Burger Boy” Revoir
·
Jesse
“Nervous About My Game Plan” Lam
·
Clint
“Chipmunk Cheeks” St. John
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“You skinny punks can’t beat us,”
Mr. Miller and Mr. Revoir smugly told Mr. Lam and me. The two of them looked
like the Bushwhackers WWF tag-team I used to watch as a kid. Biceps and bellies
bulged out of their medium-sized Hudson Middle School cutoff shirts.
The long basketball coaching season had come to a close, and
the four of us decided to take on the gut-busting burger-eating challenge at
Leo’s Grill and Malt Shop to celebrate a job well done. Mr. Shultz was invited
along for moral support, but Lam just had to open his big mouth during lunch
that day. The Bossman, Principal Koch, had swung by the seventh grade teachers’
lunchroom and wanted to go along too. He ordered Shultz to take a camera to the
event. A burger-eating challenge, a camera, and my boss: recipe for
disaster…and non-tenure.
Everyone agreed to meet at Leo’s.
Miller, Lam and I jumped into Lam’s car. Miller seemed cool and confident all
day; he even said he ate a Culver’s ButterBurger Deluxe for breakfast. But he
started to come unglued in the backseat. “You guys set me up! You two jerks
have probably been training for months. After you beat me, you will brag around
school forever! You set me up!”
Lam and I looked at one another and
worried about Miller’s sanity and our safety. We were more than a bit worried
about the Bane lookalike transforming in the back. Lam stepped on the gas to
Leo’s, so Bane could unleash his fury on the burger rather than us.
Everybody was waiting when we
finally made it to the restaurant, and when we sat down, Shultz started taking
our mug shots. Our appointed head coach, Mr. Koch, went over individual game
plans while we ordered our massive chunks of cow flesh. Miller and Revoir
started pacing and growling like steroid-induced tigers in a cage. We couldn’t
figure out if it was their stomachs or voices doing the growling, but we didn’t
want to find out.
Finally, our server came out with
the burgers. A floating mist of steam engulfed our booth, and the aroma of
fresh beef massaged our nose hairs. While we were waiting for them to cool,
Coach Koch lost his patience. “Go!” he barked.
Everything started moving in slow
motion. Miller and Revoir were devouring the meat before I even had a good
handle on my sandwich. I felt like I was in the Velociraptor cage from Jurassic
Park. Coach Koch yelled at Lam for eating the chips first. What kind of strategy was that? Did he know something I didn’t? I
had to stop thinking and start eating. I
could hear the sizzle of meat as it entered my mouth and burned off my taste
buds. I needed a fire extinguisher: Heinz ketchup.
Soon enough I was in the zone.
Burger, bread, chips, ketchup, mustard, bacon, onions, and water were flowing
down my esophagus. My chest started to tighten, but I ignored the pain. Lam and
I not only wanted to finish the burger in less than twenty minutes, we wanted
to take down the two ripped sumos.
I thought things were going well
until Coach Koch barked in my ear. “Bad strategy! Stuffing the food in your
cheeks like a chipmunk slows you down! Even Lam is going to beat you, and he
looks nervous about his game plan! That’s what he gets for not listening to his
coach!”
I looked across the table, and Lam’s
face had turned a shade of gray; his eyes started to gloss over with meat tears.
He looked queasy, and I became worried about being on the receiving end of
upchucked Lam spew. Just as I was focusing back on the task at hand, Schultz
started taking pictures again, but this time, he held the camera for a long
time. It turned out he wasn’t just taking snapshots to share with the faculty,
he was videotaping. The lower half of my face was full of ketchup, mustard, and
burger grease. I could feel the pores opening all over me as the digested cow
fought to escape my body, and to top it all off, there was a video camera
taping everything for my colleagues’ ensuing entertainment.
Even with my flawed strategy, I was
working hard enough to be in contention for the inaugural HMS Leo’s Challenge
crown…or so I thought. Miller’s and Revoir’s faces were clean and very relaxed.
Miller was patting the edge of his mouth with his napkin like he was trying to
impress a date. Lam tried to ask him about the napkin use, but Miller glared at
him and warned, “Don’t talk to me while I’m eating.”
Lam turned toward Revoir to reach for the water pitcher, but
Revoir’s wild-man instincts took over. He thought Lam was going for his dinner.
“Don’t touch my burger, boy!” he screamed. Miller and Revoir were both almost
finished. We were only six minutes into the challenge, and they were inhaling
beef like I inhale air. It was obvious that Grayface and I were already out of
contention.
At the eleven minute mark, Miller
and Revoir finished at the same time; they rammed their guts into one another
and grunted like wild boars. Lam and I kept chewing and chewing, our goal now
to finish within the twenty minute time frame to win the Leo’s t-shirt. With way too much burger left, we were in the
midst of the mental battle. Minute by minute passed, but I knew I would be able
to finish. I finally put the last bite in my mouth at the 16:30 mark, and Coach
Koch gave me a nod with a hint of disappointment. “Not bad, but not good,
either,” he said. Koch peered over at Lam wondering if he would have to begin
looking for a new art teacher. Finally, Lam fought through the last of the
chips, his livelihood and manhood safe, finishing with a time of 17:40.
The newly-minted Burgerwhackers
started bragging about how easily they crushed the burgers and our times. They
tried to prove they were tougher than us by ordering chocolate shakes, but Lam
and I answered by doing the same. It was hard to eat the ice cream though, and
not because of the amount of food piling up in my belly: when Miller and Revoir
would lift their glass mugs, my face was mere inches from crusty yellow pit
hair and burger sweat pouring out of their armpit pores.
After finishing dessert, we were
given our t-shirt trophies and had a team photo taken. “I am proud of you
boys,” Coach Koch said. “This proves that I know how to hire the right kind of
people."
Lam and I breathed a sigh of relief. Even though our times didn't match the Miller-Revoir tag-team, our jobs were safe. I learned a valuable lesson that day: don't mess with jumbo burgers, and don't mess with the Bushwhackers.
Lam and I breathed a sigh of relief. Even though our times didn't match the Miller-Revoir tag-team, our jobs were safe. I learned a valuable lesson that day: don't mess with jumbo burgers, and don't mess with the Bushwhackers.
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