“Are you sure you can do this?”, he attempted to reassure himself. It just seemed wrong, as if he just shouldn’t have had to do something like this, much less believe it was even possible.
Something didn’t feel right, not that anything could feel right after a thought like, “Consuming such a thing could kill you!”.
He looked around to see if anyone was watching. That is what made it all harder, because everyone was watching. The entire office had gathered around to see the commotion, because anything was better than actually working.
He looks back at the person he’s been going back and forth with for the last 10 minutes then looks down and begins to think again.
“I can’t even take the whole thing in my mouth!”, he thought trying his damndest not to smile at the dirty joke in the midst of his verbal duel. His thought process resumed once he felt safe that his face wasn’t going to betray him concluding with, “…much less bite off pieces at a time for it to be bearable.” That wasn’t an option here.
The biggest problem with this entire event unfolding was that it was already at the back of his throat ready to take the plunge, his throat was aching from holding it so long.
The taste was bitter like beer gone bad and to top it off, was completely warm. But was it also supposed to be as slimy as it had felt to him?
He had lost track of time and couldn’t tell how much of it had passed with him being in Thinkyland, whilst also trying to figure out why this reminded him so much of a chilli eating contest. The sweat forming across the brow and mouth going so completely dry that if he moved his tongue around it would make a noise, all this from the impending fiery pain to come.
Except this wasn’t chilli.
Finally he snaps back to reality having concluded that he no longer had a choice, he began to swallow, which ended up being the hardest thing he had ever done and as audibly as possible. It sounded like a bass drum to him, the final one he’d ever hear so to speak.
And down it went, the slime, the bitterness, the sinking gut feeling. Everything that pride had the ability to conjure.
This included the pain and uncomfortable nature of pushing your point knowing full well you were wrong, regardless of how long ago in the argument you discovered that you were wrong.