About 15 years ago, my army buddies and I went through a ridiculously bored phase of our enlistment when we became obsessed with food bets.
You know... ten saltines in a minute, a gallon of milk in an hour. I once saw a buddy attempt to eat a three pound Hickory Farms beef stick in ten minutes (no go on that one).
Well, one night in the barracks we were watching "Cool Hand Luke" and we saw the classic scene where Paul Newman bets that he can eat 50 eggs in an hour. Offhandedly, I said that I could never do that. Well... then again, I said, I probably could if they were Cadbury eggs.
Immediately my buddies jumped on it. Yes... you have to do it. We got really excited for a while, spelling out the rules... they would have to be unwrapped first, no... um... "reverse digestion", all the usual caveats. Negotiations started about how betting would be handled, and this is when the fatal error in the plan arose... who was going to fork over the 60-some bucks initially to actually buy the Cadbury Eggs?
Damn.
Talk continued for a few days more but, eventually, they decided decided that was too much of an initial investment for what would be nothing more than a time waster, anyway. So, the plan died... becoming nothing more than a funny story my friends and I would tell over the next decade and a half, when we would get together for weddings and things.
Until now.
Recently my best friend (formerly one of those army friends) lived through the turmoil in Egypt, going for a couple weeks with no way to communicate with his family and friends. As the situation was very touch and go during that time, I helped him out by calling him every day (sometimes trying for hours until I could get through) to get any messages he wanted to relay to his family, or to post on Facebook.
He was very grateful. So much so, in fact, that I got a thank you gift in the mail today:
50 Cadbury Eggs.
Damn it. A bet's a bet, so... 15 years after I made the claim... apparently I have a cadre of thirty-something former army guys laying down odds behind my back.
I have a bad feeling about this (but probably not as bad as the feeling I will have this weekend). Details to follow.
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-------------------- The Semi-Great Gildersleeve - writing, super-heroes, and this 'n' that
From: The Stasis Zone | Registered: Jul 2003
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-------------------- Five billion years from now the Sun will go nova and obliterate the Earth. Don't sweat the small stuff!
From: Boston | Registered: Aug 2003
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posted
Er... reverse peristalsis? Fine, Quis... no puking.
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posted
50 of those, and I'd be in a coma...literally. My blood sugar would be so high it would beat the 700+ when I got diagnosed as a diabetic.
From: Turn around... | Registered: Jul 2003
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So I did a small trial run last night, just to get a "taste" of what I'm in for. I went and bought an additional 5 eggs at the convenient store and set about doing a quick test. My findings:
- They are sweet. Far sweeter than I remember... it has been a long time since I've actually eaten one of these, and they are like just... I don't know... sugar bombs. Interestingly, though, I felt like once I started, my mind was so focused on the task that it was like my tastebuds shut down.
- Time is not the problem. I was able to eat 5 of them in 1 minute, 15 seconds. At that pace, I'd be able to complete the 50 in well under the limit. But, chewing so fast, I would up biting my cheek. I'm thinking that slow and steady will win the race.
- I expected to feel nauseous, but... nah. Admittedly, I did the trial after dinner so I guess my belly was already warmed up. That may be key. Even today, about 14 hours later, no signs of anything.
- I did a bit of research and found out that some guy from Maxim magazine tried this a few years ago... and failed. 28 eggs before... the return. Wimp.
- My wife lack fortitude (kidding, sweetie, just kidding!) She watched this display last night and promptly said, "That... was... disgusting. I am not filming this for you." I need to review those wedding vows and find the applicable passage that commits her to this.
As a side note, I took another look at the original e-mail that my buddy had sent, just alerting me that he was sending a package, but not telling me what it was. The subject line read, "Something Wicked Your Way Comes" - a reference to an old Ray Bradbury book. Wait... Bradbury... Cadbury... oooooohhhh! He thinks he's so smart. Well, we will see. This weekend... as I go into lockjaw and hyperglycemic shock and very possible declare the toilet to be my best friend... we will see who the smart one is!
Wait...
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