My best friend through childhood was always quite the jokester. He loved playing pranks or making an *** of himself for others’ amusement, so we would often go out looking for idiotic fun.
One of our favorite pastimes was going to the “Coledo Chile Trader’s” store at the Mall of America (no longer there), a store that specializes in hot foods (they had an amazingly tasty Bloody Mary mix), to taste test the hot sauces. We tried the hottest stuff they had, moving up each time we went. We started with the 4th hottest at 250,000 scovilles (unit of measurement for hotness in foods), then the third at 600,000 units, moving on up to the 2nd at 1.6 million. They were hot and we tortured ourselves quite a bit over them, but we always had our eyes on the bottle behind the counter: The Source (http://www.hotsauceworld.com/source.html), said to be the hottest sauce in the world. $100 for one ounce. You had to be 18 to purchase it, and sign a waver stating you will not blame the store for any injuries you may incur consuming the product. We were 17 at the time, and thus couldn’t get it.
After we turned 18, we went back. We asked the clerk if we could taste test it. Normally they wouldn’t, but since we were faithful customers, the man obliged us. He took the bottle and informed us that it was 7.1 million scoville units, which was over 4 times more than the 2nd hottest sauce was. We were nervous. We were told that a drop of this could spice up a whole pot of chile and make it too hot for many people to eat. There was a brush on the end of the cap because the stuff was too thick to pour out. He brushed an amazingly miniscule amount on a tortilla chip. It was pitch black and thick like tar.
“Hope you don’t have any plans for the next few hours,” said the clerk as we both eat our tortilla chips…
Inside of my mouth got increasingly hot at an alarming rate, until the sensation surpassed heat. This wasn’t hot. It felt like someone ran a razor down my tongue, across my cheeks, and through the roof of my mouth. It was pure, searing, stabbing pain and it was getting worse by the second. I look at my friend. His beet-red face and teary eyes were conveying similar discomfort. We ran out of the store and sprinted around the corner to the convenience store. We grabbed as much milk as we could care with clumsy and panicked motor functions like we were in a timed shopping spree. The clerk asked me if I was okay, to which I replied with a frustrated Frankenstein monster-like growl. I slapped the money on the table and was chugging the carton before she could give me my change. I drank milk until I couldn’t possible fit anything else into my body… then the pain got worse. We frantically paced around the mall, keeping our bodies moving and sucking air in vain attempts to relieve the pain. The thought running through my head was “I hope I pass out, I hope I pass out, I hope I pass out.”
For about two hours we anguished over our folly. It finally died down to a manageable level. It was still pretty damn hot, but at least my friend was now capable of operating a vehicle, so we went home. My stomach was in pain for two days, and using the toilet was excruciating, but it was worth it.
If you ever want to really torture someone, put some of this in their food. I guarantee that the result will be priceless.
One of our favorite pastimes was going to the “Coledo Chile Trader’s” store at the Mall of America (no longer there), a store that specializes in hot foods (they had an amazingly tasty Bloody Mary mix), to taste test the hot sauces. We tried the hottest stuff they had, moving up each time we went. We started with the 4th hottest at 250,000 scovilles (unit of measurement for hotness in foods), then the third at 600,000 units, moving on up to the 2nd at 1.6 million. They were hot and we tortured ourselves quite a bit over them, but we always had our eyes on the bottle behind the counter: The Source (http://www.hotsauceworld.com/source.html), said to be the hottest sauce in the world. $100 for one ounce. You had to be 18 to purchase it, and sign a waver stating you will not blame the store for any injuries you may incur consuming the product. We were 17 at the time, and thus couldn’t get it.
After we turned 18, we went back. We asked the clerk if we could taste test it. Normally they wouldn’t, but since we were faithful customers, the man obliged us. He took the bottle and informed us that it was 7.1 million scoville units, which was over 4 times more than the 2nd hottest sauce was. We were nervous. We were told that a drop of this could spice up a whole pot of chile and make it too hot for many people to eat. There was a brush on the end of the cap because the stuff was too thick to pour out. He brushed an amazingly miniscule amount on a tortilla chip. It was pitch black and thick like tar.
“Hope you don’t have any plans for the next few hours,” said the clerk as we both eat our tortilla chips…
Inside of my mouth got increasingly hot at an alarming rate, until the sensation surpassed heat. This wasn’t hot. It felt like someone ran a razor down my tongue, across my cheeks, and through the roof of my mouth. It was pure, searing, stabbing pain and it was getting worse by the second. I look at my friend. His beet-red face and teary eyes were conveying similar discomfort. We ran out of the store and sprinted around the corner to the convenience store. We grabbed as much milk as we could care with clumsy and panicked motor functions like we were in a timed shopping spree. The clerk asked me if I was okay, to which I replied with a frustrated Frankenstein monster-like growl. I slapped the money on the table and was chugging the carton before she could give me my change. I drank milk until I couldn’t possible fit anything else into my body… then the pain got worse. We frantically paced around the mall, keeping our bodies moving and sucking air in vain attempts to relieve the pain. The thought running through my head was “I hope I pass out, I hope I pass out, I hope I pass out.”
For about two hours we anguished over our folly. It finally died down to a manageable level. It was still pretty damn hot, but at least my friend was now capable of operating a vehicle, so we went home. My stomach was in pain for two days, and using the toilet was excruciating, but it was worth it.
If you ever want to really torture someone, put some of this in their food. I guarantee that the result will be priceless.
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And here I thought I was a *man* for taking a nibble of a habanero whilst in Mexico...apparently only a scoffable 100,000 scovilles...and I was wrecked for the day. 
Growing up to 8 or 9 inches long, these incredibly aggressive demons will attack unprovoked and always travel in pairs (yay). 
