I got to-go wings from Kooky Canuck tonight. I got the Holy Smokes wings, the equivalent of suicide wings.
First bite wing 1: Well these aren’t as bad as I remember.
Second bite wing 1 (1 minute later): Okay starting to heat up.
First bite wing 2 (5 minutes later): Arrrrrgggggghhhh my mouth is on fire.
Second bite wing 2 (5 minutes later): (Run to the freezer. Dump ice in cup. Pour minimal amount of water on top. Chug, swishing ice water over tongue and mouth) Owwwwwwwwwwwwww.
Oh. There’s a carrot. A vegetable would be a welcome relief right now. MUNCH… oh wait, that’s not a carrot, that’s a fry that was lying underneath the wings and got covered in sauce… OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!
First bite wing 3 (10 minutes later after 3 cups of ice water): These wings could star in a monster movie. Kooky Canuck bartender Meghan and Flying Saucer bartender Brittney could co-star as Godzilla and King Kong.
Second bite wing 3 (10 minutes and 4 more cups of ice water later): Nose running and eyes watering so bad that I can’t see. Decide to put the 9 remaining wings and fries in the fridge for tomorrow. Time for bed, except it will take at least 40 minutes for my lips to stop burning so I can sleep.
5 minutes later: Accidentally rub eye, not realizing that I still have wing sauce on my finger. Spend the next 20 minutes rinsing out eye with cold water.
16 hours later, sitting on toilet: OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW. I think I’m going to die.
It’s like a great chef once said: You have to suffer for your food. I wouldn’t have my wings any way else. Looking forward to leftovers for lunch.