Wing of Fire My skin caught on fire at the hot wing eating contest. Bright orange sauce was smeared all around my mouth, cheeks, nose, and hands. It burned a fiery, unyielding burn, but I knew I had to continue. There was no way I was going to forfeit the $200 prize for most hot wings eaten in an hour just because my skin felt like I took a match to it. The old capsaicin was doing its work. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a man who had given up. A hot mixture of tears and snot ran down his face as one of the waiters rushed him a cold glass of milk. There was no way I was going to let that be me. I had to keep chewing. The minutes ticked down like hours. One by one, more people began to forfeit. In what felt like an eternity, only two (including myself) remained. These last few moments would define the entire competition. I had to make every second; no, every millisecond count. I'd begun to notice a change creeping up on me. My fingers, face, mouth, and tongue had gone almost completely numb. I couldn't even taste the wings anymore. "Keep on chewing. Keep on chewing. Keep on chewing," I repeated to myself. It had become my mantra. Only one wing remained. I looked over at my opponent's plate to see he also had only one wing left. My heart nearly skipped a beat. It was neck in neck, or wing in wing rather. My fingers had locked into position for chicken wing holding. I struggled to pick up the last wing. My opponent glanced at me, giving me a sly grin. He knew he had this in the bag. All of sudden, my fingers unlocked and I grabbed the last wing like it was a dollar bill on the street. Using every tooth in my mouth I tore off the meat and the skin, leaving nothing but bone. "The winner of the annual chicken wing eating contest and of $200 is........................................... MISS KATHY RAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" The announcer declared. Wait a minute, I thought. That's my name; he called me. So that means.............. I WON?! "Here's your trophy m'am, along with a check for $200. Congratulations!". I sat there dumbfounded, staring blankly into space. This is real, this is actually happening to me. Cameras flashed, people came up to me to offer their congratulations, heck, I even signed a few autographs! Out of the corner of my eye I could see some of my opponents, sulking bitterly at their bad luck. "How in the Sam Hill does some little ol' gal like that beat all of us at something we've been doing for years?" One grumbled. The answer was simple. I kept chewing.
