Calling Dr. Pepper

I believe the stem can also be used as a fuse

We walked into town, trying to find a pool hall that we were told about. It didn’t open until 8 pm so we waited at the out-door bar in the alley next to the heavy wooden doors that led to the pool hall. This town used to be a silver mining town so a lot of the doors look like entrances to forts, huge wooden doors with heavy metal hinges and straps. When the owner showed up and opened the double doors there stood an old spiral staircase so up we went, three stories. The walls were covered with old photos of old Mexico and it’s people. The pool hall was a multi level affair with tables covering each level. The beer was ice cold and we felt at home immediately. The waiter brought us our beer and offered a list of munchies. Two types of peanuts were offered, salad and chili. Mike asked for chili. They came and I watched him eat the first few to see how hot they were, no reaction. He said they were spicy but not real hot so I grabbed a handful. I like hot food . I like jalapenos on my hamburgers. That said, I think I heard the voice in my head say, “We have ignition!”. The first thing I thought was, “How is that kid eating these?”, and the second thing I thought was, “I love the taste of Napalm in the morning!” and the last thing that came to mind was, “Where the #*!$% is my beer!”. I drank my beer in one continuous suck but, it didn’t seem as cold as it did a second ago. I grabbed Mike’s beer and drank it down with no relief. The heat was agony and instead of it slowly going away, it slowly got worse and worse. I grabbed Shannon’s beer and drained it which allowed me to talk again, I managed to wheeze, “Get more, hurry”. Fluid was running out of every hole in my head at this point and breathing was getting difficult. I continued drinking like I was at my first college kegger . It lasted for about half an hour. Keep in mind that one normal hour is equal to 3 unbearably hot hours. The next time the waiter arrived I croaked something about how #!$%&*!!ing hot the peanuts were. First there was just a blank look on his face which after a second gave way to an “Oh my God” look at which point he grabbed the bowel of peanuts and closely looked inside it. His head snapped up, looking more closely at my face, and said in amazement, “You ate the pepper?”. He said it the same way you would say, “You slayed the dragon?” or “You stabbed yourself in the eye with your fork?“. They put a pepper in the peanut bowel that you DON’T eat. It’s there to rub up against the peanuts, making them really hot. I didn’t know that and he sure as hell didn’t mention it was in there so I got it along with my handful of peanuts. For the rest of the night he was pointing me out to the other Mexicans and telling them how I ate the pepper. Years form now, the old ones will still be telling the story of how the gringo ate the pepper and not only did he stay conscious and on his feet but, he bravely ordered another bowel of peanuts. No one has ever eaten the pepper and lived. I feel like a hero. When nobody was looking I grabbed the pepper from the second bowel and stuck it in my pocket so they would think I ate it too. I will be known as Macho Miguel the Fearless One. More likely, “That Loco Gringo”, or more accurately, “Old Fire Poo“. We later identified the pepper as a Bird pepper. That’s what they are called in the islands. They make jalapenos taste like Juicyfruit. I wrote a story about them in my other blog .http://michaelscottstories.wordpress.com/florida-state-chili-cookoff/ . Those of you reading at home should never attempt to eat one of these. As a matter of fact nether should the trained professionals. If you should ever happen upon one some day, treat it as a blasting cap, (come to think of it that might be the only use for them) do not touch it or go near it, call the bomb squad.