The Challenge
Deep in the bowels
Of the bursting metropolis
Of Newark New Jersey
In the back of Benny's Gas-N-Go
A man can find
A challenge.
And I
Unwittingly unaware of what ordeals
I may encounter
Made the fateful choice
To stop
At Benny's Gas-N-Go
Deep in the bowels
Of Newark New Jersey
And at half past two
(Three hours past my normal lunch time)
I found myself staring
At this humble abode
Sharing its roof with the typical gas station fare
Of grilled weiners and chili
This little known secret
Of Northeastern Americana goodness
An establishment known
As "Thicc Burritos And Sushi."
But it was not the Frankensteinian hybridization
Of Oriental fare and bastardized Tex-Mex
That caught my eye,
But a laminated poster.
A challenge.
"Eat The Monster Burrito And Eat For Free"
It provoked
In taunting letters
That were the same color
As one of the colors
Of Joseph's coat of many colors
That is, the same color that flows inside you
And me
The color of anger,
Of passion,
Of red,
The color of challenge.
And be one traveler long I stood
And stared at this sign
Until I resigned
And flexed my bowels
And girded my loins
And let out a preemptive belch
To move forward
and accept this challenge.
The waiter smirked
As I sat down
And ordered the Monster
I could feel disdain
Oozing from his eyes
Like ketchup
Oozing from a crushed packet.
I ordered a large root beer
And settled down for my odyssey,
My epic journey to the underworld
Of urban New Jersey.
Surely in years to come
Bards and poets
And Garth Brooks clones
Would sing about the deeds
And feats I would perform this day.
Surely songs and plays
And Taco Bell commercials
Would be written about
This challenge.
The burrito came forth
Not lying flat on a plate
But standing erect, upright
Like a phallic monument
To a one-buck president
Like Kilimanjaro
Rising like Olympus
Above the Serengeti
I saw the monster burrito
The size of an obese opossum,
Its innards nearly bursting
From the pale shell
Of the flour tortilla
That struggled to contain
Its contents.
And I raised my fork,
My Narsil,
My Excalibur,
My Mjolnir,
My Tizona,
My Mastersword,
My Amorachius,
My Old Betsy,
My Rhindon,
My Dragonlance,
My Gunblade,
My Zar'roc,
My Sword of Gryffindor,
My Sword that my father crafted for the six-fingered man,
And I plunged it into my foe
My monster burrito
Like a lightsaber effortlessly cutting
Into a frozen taun-taun I tore through the monumental
Mockery of Mexican cuisine
And masticated my morsel
It burned, but not like fire
But like Uncle Danny's custom
Chili curry picante hot powder
And left me yearning for something cool
And wet
And otherwise the opposite of
Uncle Danny's custom
Chili curry picante powder.
It burned
But not like an impatient
Boy Scout's marshmallow
Turning black as it oozes
With soot-covered boils
Bursting with white
Marshmallow pus
It burned like
A pea of wasabi
Snorted in a baffling
And ambitious attempt
To impress a new
Acquaintance of the opposite sex.
But I was no stranger to spice
Had I not eaten
Twelve pounds of crawfish
In the Louisiana June heat?
Had I not consumed ten servings of
Jamaican jerked chicken outside New Orleans?
Had I not sweated through
Each "Hot—Very Spicy Rating"
Dish at India Pavilion?
I stared at the monster, the Kraken
From the bowels of Newark New Jersey
And through watering eyes
I took another bite
And as I chewed It expanded
Growing in my mouth
Like an unintended double-entendre.
But I swallowed.
And bit by bit, the burrito disappeared
My jaw unhinging
Like a boa constrictor
As I mindlessly scarfed down this
Toddler-sized
Bundle of agony
Like a dumpster-diving chipmunk,
My cheeks filled with burrito
As I struggled to chew
I used the root beer
To soften the gobbet
And swallowed the sweet and spicy mush.
After an hour and fifty-three minutes
I was nearly to the end of my journey
The once mighty Chimera
Lay emaciated on my plate
There were only a few scraps left.
Alas! that the voyage had ended there!
That I had waited a few minutes to sit and rest
And not in my folly pressed forward
Eager to defeat
This challenge
For then,
Like a space shuttle burrowing into the earth
My meal began traveling
In the opposite direction
Than it was intended to travel
My throat clinched as I felt a rising
Disturbingly familiar sensation
Of my stomach wrenching,
Violently throwing its contents
Skyward, like an optimistic
Jets Quarterback in the 4th quarter
Like a teenager playing ding-dong ditch
I bolted
And ran towards the bathroom
A single-stall facility shared
With Benny's Gas-N-Go
Left uncleaned since 2004
What horrors this toilet had seen
Did nothing to prepare it for what was to come
My face was pale and clammy
Knees weak arms were heavy
There was vomit in the toilet already
Mom's spaghetti
And like Mt. Vesuvius
Spewing its molten contents over Pompeii
I also spewed chunks of meat
And beans and burning sauce
On the once-white now-grey and beige
Porcelain shell of the toilet
And I rested
And breathed
And did not care
That my tear-streaked face
Was pressed onto the crusty rim
Of the toilet.
Like Hector outside the city of Troy
I had fallen
It was over.
I returned to the table
And stared at the plate
Smeared with sauce and refried beans
On the table lay a check
A declaration of surrender.
I soddenly walked
Feeling dirty and used
Like Icarus
Having flown
Too close to the Monster Burrito
But I know I will return
As Aristotle said,
Expellance is a habit
Not an act.
For deep in the bowels
Of the bursting metropolis
Of Newark New Jersey
In the back of Benny's Gas-N-Go
A man can find
A challenge.
