Hot wings are delicious, Hell wings make you poop and throw up at the same time.

So I am just going to get straight to the point on this one.
I love hot wings.
The only person I know who has a greater love of hot wings than me is J.
If J could marry hot wings, he would, but I don't think they have passed that law yet.


Anyway, J and I went to a new place for dinner the other night. I was in the mood for Mexican and a margarita and we had never been to Pepper's Tavern before but it's tag line is "a five star dive" so needless to say I was interested.


We ate some delicious tacos and had some beer before J noticed that the wall behind the bar has peoples names written all over it. He then discovered to get your name on the wall you needed to eat 4 of their "Hell Wings" Naturally J thought this was no big deal. He loves wings, loves hot sauce, there were a good amount of names on the wall...the perfect storm.


"Gimme one order of Hell Wings!"


This my friends is the beginning of a painful tale to tell, and an even more painful tale to witness that night...or the next day.


This order of wings had 6 wings in it, and you only had to eat 4 of them. As they come out to the bar every person they passed on their way down to our bar stools turned, eyes wide.


This might be harder than J thinks.


They smelled like gasoline. It stung the nostrils. They made me thirsty just looking at them. J was confident.

J's confident "bring it on" look

Now right before the wings came out, I noticed a friends name on the wall. I texted him right away to ask when he had done it and if he had any advice to give to J. His response was simple.


"DON'T DO IT"


Too late for that my friend, wings are ordered, any words of wisdom for our boy?
He told me the worst part was having the sauce touch his lips. His lips burned more than anything and he said the best thing to do would be to rip the meat off of the bones and 'place' it into your mouth so no sauce got on your face. He also told me he has never thrown up/cried/laid on the floor in a public bathroom before that night... 
(I didn't mention that part to J)

And it begins...

So the first wing was hot he said, but it wasn't until he took a sip of beer and moved onto the second wing that it really hit him. He is beginning to sweat, literally guys. 

I posed for a quick picture with him, I didn't make his stop eating for the picture, I was afraid if he paused even for a small moment he may not finish, the Hell Wing would not get the best of my boy!


He was on his 3rd wing here, right after this picture he wanted to quit. He chugged both his beer and mine and told me he didn't think he could finish. Naturally I screamed at him that he could do it! Don't be a baby! You have come this far you will NEVER FORGIVE YOURSELF IF YOU STOP NOW!!!!!


He kept going. I am a good cheerleader. HE DID IT!

I know this may not look like a triumphant man, but believe me, when he cleans up, and his taste buds re-grow,  he will look pretty damn proud.
The best part was, he got to put his name on the wall :)

Victory is his!

Peace, Love, and Hell Wing Flavored Bile,
Chels


*J and I went home that night and he was fine. His head didn't explode, steam never came out of his ears, but the next morning was a whole different story...Let's just say our toilets were occupied by one end of him at all times.


**J, hopefully you're not embarrassed that I am telling anyone this. It's not only a tale of a brave and triumphant wing lover (you) but it also serves as a grave warning to anyone considering the Hell Wing challenge.