Rapture My Ass!
This morning, as I came in from dropping my granddaughter off at school, I could hear guttural moans coming from my bathroom. After taking off my boots and coat, I walked upstairs to hear my son calling my name. He sounded like he was in agony.
I began to laugh, I am wacky like that, but I knew his discomfort materialized from the previous nights indulgence. He and his good friend Chad opened up the gates of culinary hell. A few weeks before, Chad had ordered gourmet hot sauce online. Everyday, he, my son and their other friends waited for its arrival, planning their heat off. They were going to toss it on chicken wings, and anything else they thought might be enhanced by liquid fire. Yesterday, it arrived. Chad, walked into my living room, and opened up a brown box. Inside this box were two bottles of hot sauce. One was a small bottle of red hot sauce, the larger bottle, held an orange hot sauce. It had the name Rapture.
The word Rapture is defined as extreme delight or bliss. So, a bottle of hot sauce, made from Scorpion peppers, the hottest peppers known to man, containing 1.2,000,000 scovilles (measurement of the pungency of spicy heat. Regular hot sauce from the grocery store is measured at 450.) named Rapture, it implies a pleasureable, blissful experience. An oxymoron for sure!
Chad and my son ordered a pound of regular chicken wings with NO sauce, from a pub across the street. They tossed the plain wings with a few drops of this unholy sauce. Both of them were like giddy teenage girls, at their first high school dance. I was laughing at what I was sure was going to be a monumental mistake on their part. I was right.
About twenty minutes later, my son's bedroom door opened, and these two young men thundered down the stairs, dropping onto my sectonal, panting like dogs, each one with a litre of egg nog in their hand, chugging it. My son held his mouth open like a fish gulping for air, Chad, was warning him NOT to cough because it was like fire in his throat. My son patted some egg nog on his swollen lips, as Chad was cursing his choice. I was sitting, watching and laughing. They both decided they were NEVER going to eat this hot sauce again. Their two friends, and my twin brother are waiting to experience their own Rapture. My son and Chad, if they could laugh, were determined their friends were going to experience their own oral incineration experience.
I let them babble on for a bit, and then I said "Wait until tomorrow, when you need to poop! It will be worse!" Both of them looked a little frightened, but being 25, and 26 year old men, they assured me they could handle it. Which brings me back to this morning...
As my son came out of the bathroom, he was pale, and sweating, with a slew of explatives escaping from him. He sat gingerly on the ottoman. He reminded me of a woman who had just given birth. I, of course was roaring. My son was glaring at me and told me I didn't understand, I laughed and said "Oh, I think I do, giving birth is worse." He shook his head no in total disagreement.
My son called Chad at work to warn him. He wasn't at work. My son said "Oh oh!" He called him at home and asked Chad if he had taken a sh*t yet. Chad told my son he had not, but he was however experiencing excruciating pain in his abdomen. My son's eyes bugged out and he told Chad he had about thirty minutes before he deficated lava from his arse. He pleaded with Chad to go and take as many Imodum as he could. "Maybe" He said "You still have time! Maybe you won't be plagued with this unholy sh*t storm!" I was laughing so hard I couldn't stand it. My son hung up the phone and crashed on my sectional, holding his stomach, audibly praying not to go again. Chad called back about thirty minutes later, and I could hear in his voice he had suffered. My son was listening to him, and the look in my son's eyes told the whole story. I couldn't stifle my laughing, so I grabbed a pillow and pushed my face into it. These men had suffered a holy anal cleansing- with fire!
I believe that will be the end of their Rapture experience, at least with this hot sauce. I'm sure when the fire is extinguished in their anus, they will be able to laugh, until that time, I will laugh for them!
I began to laugh, I am wacky like that, but I knew his discomfort materialized from the previous nights indulgence. He and his good friend Chad opened up the gates of culinary hell. A few weeks before, Chad had ordered gourmet hot sauce online. Everyday, he, my son and their other friends waited for its arrival, planning their heat off. They were going to toss it on chicken wings, and anything else they thought might be enhanced by liquid fire. Yesterday, it arrived. Chad, walked into my living room, and opened up a brown box. Inside this box were two bottles of hot sauce. One was a small bottle of red hot sauce, the larger bottle, held an orange hot sauce. It had the name Rapture.
The word Rapture is defined as extreme delight or bliss. So, a bottle of hot sauce, made from Scorpion peppers, the hottest peppers known to man, containing 1.2,000,000 scovilles (measurement of the pungency of spicy heat. Regular hot sauce from the grocery store is measured at 450.) named Rapture, it implies a pleasureable, blissful experience. An oxymoron for sure!
Chad and my son ordered a pound of regular chicken wings with NO sauce, from a pub across the street. They tossed the plain wings with a few drops of this unholy sauce. Both of them were like giddy teenage girls, at their first high school dance. I was laughing at what I was sure was going to be a monumental mistake on their part. I was right.
About twenty minutes later, my son's bedroom door opened, and these two young men thundered down the stairs, dropping onto my sectonal, panting like dogs, each one with a litre of egg nog in their hand, chugging it. My son held his mouth open like a fish gulping for air, Chad, was warning him NOT to cough because it was like fire in his throat. My son patted some egg nog on his swollen lips, as Chad was cursing his choice. I was sitting, watching and laughing. They both decided they were NEVER going to eat this hot sauce again. Their two friends, and my twin brother are waiting to experience their own Rapture. My son and Chad, if they could laugh, were determined their friends were going to experience their own oral incineration experience.
I let them babble on for a bit, and then I said "Wait until tomorrow, when you need to poop! It will be worse!" Both of them looked a little frightened, but being 25, and 26 year old men, they assured me they could handle it. Which brings me back to this morning...
As my son came out of the bathroom, he was pale, and sweating, with a slew of explatives escaping from him. He sat gingerly on the ottoman. He reminded me of a woman who had just given birth. I, of course was roaring. My son was glaring at me and told me I didn't understand, I laughed and said "Oh, I think I do, giving birth is worse." He shook his head no in total disagreement.
My son called Chad at work to warn him. He wasn't at work. My son said "Oh oh!" He called him at home and asked Chad if he had taken a sh*t yet. Chad told my son he had not, but he was however experiencing excruciating pain in his abdomen. My son's eyes bugged out and he told Chad he had about thirty minutes before he deficated lava from his arse. He pleaded with Chad to go and take as many Imodum as he could. "Maybe" He said "You still have time! Maybe you won't be plagued with this unholy sh*t storm!" I was laughing so hard I couldn't stand it. My son hung up the phone and crashed on my sectional, holding his stomach, audibly praying not to go again. Chad called back about thirty minutes later, and I could hear in his voice he had suffered. My son was listening to him, and the look in my son's eyes told the whole story. I couldn't stifle my laughing, so I grabbed a pillow and pushed my face into it. These men had suffered a holy anal cleansing- with fire!
I believe that will be the end of their Rapture experience, at least with this hot sauce. I'm sure when the fire is extinguished in their anus, they will be able to laugh, until that time, I will laugh for them!
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