Day 132-The Flat-Liner- 08-07-06
Elder Chacon called this morning. He said, “Elder Pierce, we’re about to come pick you guys up. I just need to brush my teeth and put on my socks and shoes. Then we’ll leave. How long should it take?” “You’re asking me how long it is from your house to here?” I said. “No. How long should it take me to brush my teeth and put my socks and shoes on?” asked Elder Chacon. “I don’t know. Maybe ten minutes.” Elder Chacon said, “Okay. We’ll come to get you in ten minutes.” “See you then”, I said. That Elder Chacon. He’s so funny. There is nobody like him.
After all of the meetings were over today, all of the elders from our zone went to lunch at the Buffalo Wing Factory-Home of the Flat-liner. A buffalo wing meal so spicy and hot that they make you sign a waiver before you eat it. What would possess someone to consume something so dangerously unhealthy? If you eat 10 wings, they’ll give you a t-shirt and you get your name put on a big board on the wall with all of the other survivors who have eaten a flat-liner.
There were three elders out of our whole zone who dared take the flat-liner challenge; Elder Oram, Elder Phelps and my companion, Elder Pierce. I was more than happy to sit on the sidelines and record the results in my journal. Two other elders from our zone had already completed the challenge when they came here before; Elder McCann and Elder Smith. They had already gotten their t-shirts as well as their names on the big board. They shared a tip about eating the hot wings with the Reston Elders and my companion. “When the tray gets here,” said Elder McCann, pick all of the meat off the bone. You don’t want this stuff touching your lips. The best thing you can do is put all of the meat on a plate, grab a fork, open your mouth wide, and shovel it in as fast as you can. The longer it takes, the worse it’ll be.”
I asked each of them if they had any words or comments before they ate the flat-liner. Elder Oram said, “No.” Moving right along, Elder Phelps said, “I’m nervous about the burning sensation that I’m going to be feeling.” My companion said, “I’m gonna die!”
Then the flat-liner arrived. I feel I should point out that the peppers they put in the sauce are the same kind used in pepper spray. That’s how hot they are. Elder Oram picked all of the meat off the bone and started eating. Elder Phelps started in second shoveling the meat in with his fork. My companion was a bit more meticulous, by which I mean…slow. He was still preparing his food to be eaten.
Elder Phelps was going strong. No problems. Elder Oram was slowing down a bit. He’d only eaten about 1/3 of his wings when he said, “I’m gonna throw up.” He got up from the table and ran to the bathroom. Our waiter, who was watching this spectacle, said, “That guy’s done. He’s not going to want to finish his flat-liner.”
Much to everyone’s surprise, Elder Oram did not throw up. In fact, he came back, sat down and slowly started eating again. Elder Phelps finished his hot wings first. Out of the three elders, he had the fewest problems. Elder Oram was struggling to finish the last half of his meal. About this time, Elder Pierce started eating.
It was a slow process. Elder Pierce got about half way through his meal, then like Elder Oram, he began to slow down. Each bite was harder to take. In the end, Elders Oram and Pierce were down to their last bites. They made it. All three elders won. They all got t-shirts as well as their names on the wall. But, more importantly, their story is recorded in my journal.
After they had finished, I asked each of them how they felt. (“And, remember, this is for posterity, so be honest.” –Count Ruegen, the Six-Fingered Man, The Princess Bride). Elder Phelps said, “It wasn’t that bad. It’s hot. The secret is to eat as fast as you can. Don’t stop for anything to drink until you are done.” Elder Oram said, “Man, I’m dying.” He had gotten some of the flat-liner sauce on his lips and it hurt to close them. He stood there looking a little bit like Napoleon Dynamite. I asked my companion how he liked the flat-liner. He said, “I hate it. I feel like junk. But look at this beautiful shirt!”
All three elders agreed that the favorite part of the experience was getting to put their names on the wall. Elder Oram said that we would not do an exchange today, but save it for later in the week. On the way back home, Elder Pierce told me, “I’d never eat a flat-liner again.” “Was it worth it?” I asked. “Oh, yeah,” he replied.
After all of the meetings were over today, all of the elders from our zone went to lunch at the Buffalo Wing Factory-Home of the Flat-liner. A buffalo wing meal so spicy and hot that they make you sign a waiver before you eat it. What would possess someone to consume something so dangerously unhealthy? If you eat 10 wings, they’ll give you a t-shirt and you get your name put on a big board on the wall with all of the other survivors who have eaten a flat-liner.
There were three elders out of our whole zone who dared take the flat-liner challenge; Elder Oram, Elder Phelps and my companion, Elder Pierce. I was more than happy to sit on the sidelines and record the results in my journal. Two other elders from our zone had already completed the challenge when they came here before; Elder McCann and Elder Smith. They had already gotten their t-shirts as well as their names on the big board. They shared a tip about eating the hot wings with the Reston Elders and my companion. “When the tray gets here,” said Elder McCann, pick all of the meat off the bone. You don’t want this stuff touching your lips. The best thing you can do is put all of the meat on a plate, grab a fork, open your mouth wide, and shovel it in as fast as you can. The longer it takes, the worse it’ll be.”
I asked each of them if they had any words or comments before they ate the flat-liner. Elder Oram said, “No.” Moving right along, Elder Phelps said, “I’m nervous about the burning sensation that I’m going to be feeling.” My companion said, “I’m gonna die!”
Then the flat-liner arrived. I feel I should point out that the peppers they put in the sauce are the same kind used in pepper spray. That’s how hot they are. Elder Oram picked all of the meat off the bone and started eating. Elder Phelps started in second shoveling the meat in with his fork. My companion was a bit more meticulous, by which I mean…slow. He was still preparing his food to be eaten.
Elder Phelps was going strong. No problems. Elder Oram was slowing down a bit. He’d only eaten about 1/3 of his wings when he said, “I’m gonna throw up.” He got up from the table and ran to the bathroom. Our waiter, who was watching this spectacle, said, “That guy’s done. He’s not going to want to finish his flat-liner.”
Much to everyone’s surprise, Elder Oram did not throw up. In fact, he came back, sat down and slowly started eating again. Elder Phelps finished his hot wings first. Out of the three elders, he had the fewest problems. Elder Oram was struggling to finish the last half of his meal. About this time, Elder Pierce started eating.
It was a slow process. Elder Pierce got about half way through his meal, then like Elder Oram, he began to slow down. Each bite was harder to take. In the end, Elders Oram and Pierce were down to their last bites. They made it. All three elders won. They all got t-shirts as well as their names on the wall. But, more importantly, their story is recorded in my journal.
After they had finished, I asked each of them how they felt. (“And, remember, this is for posterity, so be honest.” –Count Ruegen, the Six-Fingered Man, The Princess Bride). Elder Phelps said, “It wasn’t that bad. It’s hot. The secret is to eat as fast as you can. Don’t stop for anything to drink until you are done.” Elder Oram said, “Man, I’m dying.” He had gotten some of the flat-liner sauce on his lips and it hurt to close them. He stood there looking a little bit like Napoleon Dynamite. I asked my companion how he liked the flat-liner. He said, “I hate it. I feel like junk. But look at this beautiful shirt!”
All three elders agreed that the favorite part of the experience was getting to put their names on the wall. Elder Oram said that we would not do an exchange today, but save it for later in the week. On the way back home, Elder Pierce told me, “I’d never eat a flat-liner again.” “Was it worth it?” I asked. “Oh, yeah,” he replied.
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