[CH] Thanksgiving & Hot Sauce Story

terrabyte@tds.net
Wed, 26 Nov 2003 16:07:18 -0600 

This is a story I had submitted to Firegirl's thanksgiving challenge. The rules were that the story had to contain the words "Thanksgiving" & "Mad Dog Hot Sauce" (with the bullet keychain.

The winning stories (and pictures of the special hot sauce) are here:

http://www.firegirl.com/1259-02.html

The loser's story, err, I mean my story is here:
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Mad Dog Saves Thanksgiving
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My name is Little Mad Dog, but I'm not so little any more. I'm 12!

A lot of people wonder where I get my name from, but it's a story I only share during Thanksgiving. 

"Lil' Mad Dog, could you pass your dear grandmother the stuffing, please?"

I look up from my plate of mashed potatoes. My second helping so far. I had built a crater in the middle and was filling it up with my Mad Dog 357 Collector's Edition hot sauce. My little volcano of fire. "Sure grandma. It sure is delicious!"

"Thanks dear, you're too kind." My grandma filled her plate with stuffing, handed it off to grandpa, and started to douse her food with her bottle of Mad Dog Revenge Hot Sauce.

I take a look around the long table. New faces every year. With 5 sisters, and their new boyfriends each year, there is always a new face. Only my youngest sister, Cameron, sits right next to me without a boy. She says they're yucky. She's only 6. In her right hand, she holds a half finished bottle of Tabasco. Well, you have to start somewhere.

Across from me sits Mike, the high school jerk off. I mean quarterback. He's dating my oldest sister, Jen. They've been dating since Monday. It's a record for her. She thinks it's serious.

Mike finishes his 5th pound of turkey. He grins at me. With his mouth still full of turkey he asks, "So squirt, why do they call you Little Mad Dog?"

"Oh my, my, my, my," Grandma tsks. "It's not even dessert yet."

"Here we go!" Grandpa chortles. My kid sister grabs my Mad Dog 357 bottle, and pulls open the bullet that hangs around the neck. Inside is a tiny spoon. 

"I get to do it!" My sister slowly pours some of the hot sauce into the spoon, and then hands it, quivering, to Mike.

"What's that for?" Mike asks, with his eyebrow straight up.

Jen puts her hand on his shoulders and with much enthusiasm explains, "You have to sample the bullet to hear the story!" Everyone nods in agreement, their dinners suddenly forgotten.

"You're joking, right?" No one comes to Mike's rescue. "Yea whatever, it's just a tiny amount. Tiny like you, squirt! I'm not scared." He give me a face, sticking his tongue out. 
"Twerp".

I watch him sip it down. "See squirt, that was nothing," Mike boasts, and beams to his girlfriend, Jen. She smiles back with admiration.

I take the spoon back, and put the bullet back together. I begin to start the story, just as I see Mike's face turn red and his eyes start to water....

It was back when I was just a little kid. I was 8. Grandma was making Thanksgiving dinner that day, just like she does every year, when suddenly she started to panic. I looked up from setting the table and asked her what the matter was. "We don't have enough hot sauce bottles for everyone! Uncle Phil is coming with his 3rd wife, and we only have 14 bottles. What am I going to do??"

"I'll go down to Crazy Dave's and get some, grandma!"

"Oh, would you dear? You're a life saver! I'm still stuffing habaneros for tonight's dinner. Here's $10. Make sure you get the hot stuff. Uncle Phil raised such a fuss last year not having any extract in his bottle."

"Don't worry grandma, I know just what he needs!" I yell behind my shoulder as I run out the front door.

I skip down the street to Crazy Dave's. He runs a corner mart that's been there since way before I was born even. He doesn't have much in there, just the essentials. Slim jims, candy, beer, and behind the counter, low to the ground, a WHOLE shelf devoted to hot sauces! He even makes private batches every year in the back, and calls them the "Mad Dog" line. I open the door, and walk inside. Crazy Dave's hands are in the air, like he was already waving 'Hi' to me. It didn't seem very cold out, but obviously the guy in line was cold, he was wearing a ski mask.

"Hi Dave," I say as I make behind the counter.

"Hey you, what are you doing? Get back here!" shouts the cold man.

"Oh it's no big deal, Dave lets me back here all the time. I'm just gettin' some super duper hot sauce for my uncle Phil. Right Dave?"

"Um, son, you might want to listen to the man," Crazy Dave says in a voice that didn't sound very crazy.

I grab a Mad Dog Inferno Hot Sauce bottle. Just about right for Phil. I turn back and get in line behind the cold man.

"Now what are you doing?!" The cold man turns around and looks at me. I see he's holding a gun like the guys in my Nintendo games. Crazy Dave starts making weird signals like he's waving me out of the building. The cold guy looks back at Crazy Dave, Crazy Dave quickly plays statue with arms back in the air. I put my finger in the gun like in Bugs Bunny.

"You hunting turkey, mister?" I ask the cold man.

"Am I what?"  The cold man turns back, looking at my finger in his gun. He starts to laugh. "Yea, I'm hunting turkey"

He spied my $10 bill in my right hand. "Give me your money, kid!"

"Sorry, but it's my only one. I have to buy this hot sauce for my Uncle Phil. He's ok, but he kind of smells and makes me pull his finger..."

"Ok, ok, shut up kid, this is a robbery, give me your money."

"No."
"Yes!"
"No."
"No?"
"Yea."
"Yes?"
"I mean no. I mean, I'll fight you for it."

The cold man looks at me. "You want to fight me?" He laughs again.

"For each bullet you give me, I'll put this hot sauce on it, and EAT it!" I make it up as I go. After all, I was getting kind of hungry, and standing in line with this hot sauce in my hand was making me hungry.

The cold man looked at me like I was from Jupiter. Then he smiled behind that little "O" in his mask. "Is that the hottest sauce in the store?"

"YES!" Crazy Dave spits out immediately.

I laugh, "Don't be silly, you know that the Mad Dog 357 is the hottest in the store". A look of dismay falls across Crazy Dave's face.

"You do that one! You do that one!" The cold man shouts, jumping up and down.

Suddenly I realize why Crazy Dave forgot which hot sauce of his was the hottest. I'd never tried the 357 before. Suppose to be so hot, that Crazy Dave cleans his nickel cash register with it. Butterflies starts flying in my chest. Oh what the heck. "You're on!"

We sit down at the round table by the window. Crazy Dave gets a bottle of his 357 and brings it over to the table. Worries suddenly dissipated, he pulls up a chair next to the cold man and cracks open the top. The cold man opens his gun and brings out the first bullet and slides it towards me. I pick it up, with the flat end on the top. I pour the first drop on there.

"More! Come on, more!" The cold man, no longer being cold, pulls off his mask to take a closer look.

I pour it on, until it drips over the bullet, going over my fingers. I take a look at both Crazy Dave and the warm man, and throw the bullet in my mouth. I swallow.

"Holy cow! Bullet shots!" The warm man shouts, slapping Crazy Dave on the shoulder. "I can't believe it". He fumbles with his gun, getting the 2nd bullet out. He slides it over to me, never taking his eyes off me.

I croak, "No problem." Whoa. Suddenly it hits me. The back of my mouth is on fire. Now my throat. My stomach starts to glow. I quickly reach for the 2nd bullet and pour the sauce on. A little too quickly, I get some on the table. Was that smoke?

I toss it in my mouth and swallow before it seems to hit my tongue. Probably I just can't feel my tongue.

"How do you feel?" Crazy Dave asks with concern, although he seems fascinated by the whole thing.

"Na problem", I say, not quite getting my tongue to work, my nose starting to run. I refuse to show any pain to the warm man.

The warm man hoots, and slides over the 3rd bullet. I repeat the process, accidentally trying to chew the bullet. Ow.

"Gibby anudder one", I say. Both Crazy Dave and the warm man are laughing hysterically. Snot rolls down my nose in a 4 inch strand. I wipe it with my sleeve, and shoot my fourth bullet.

Now my eyes are streaming and drool rolls down my chin. I can't see straight, and I make Crazy Dave pour sauce on my 5th one, and I eat it. Fire explodes in my mouth from built up heat. I can't even speak.

I feel a rush suddenly wash over me. My head feels light. I give the warm guy a cheezy smile.

"No way," says the warm man. "I gotta try this myself!" He takes his last bullet and put hot sauce all over it. He hesitates. I watch through tears as he throws it in his mouth. He swallows. "Jeez, that's not so...."

He sticks his tongue out like a dog and starts panicking.

"Gibbe wader!" He screams. 

"Sure thing!" Crazy Dave jumps up from the table, grabbing the hot sauce with him. He goes in the back and gets a glass of water. I see him pour some hot sauce in. He hands it to the warm guy who gulps it down in one swallow.

He screams in agony and lurches into a beer display. He gets down on his knees and rips open a Miller High Life case, tearing the bottle caps off with his teeth and guzzling the warm beer and foam down.

After that, the cops came and took him away.

Crazy Dave sent me home with a brand new bottle of 357. He told me to come by anytime for free hot sauce. I ran home to tell grandma what happened. No one believed me until a month later when I walked into Crazy Dave's store and he told me he had a surprise for me. Standing on the top of the hot sauce shelf was a brand new bottle I had never seen before. Crazy Dave had made a new batch, "The Mad Dog 357 Collector's Edition". Super Hot. And around the neck of the bottle was a key chain holding a golden bullet. The bullet pulled apart, revealing a spoon.

Dave pushed the bottle over to me, "This is for you..... Little Mad Dog."

"So what happened to the bullets in your tummy?" 

I looked up from my mashed potato volcano. Story finally finished, I wondered who had asked that question. It wasn't Mike. He had already left the table running to the bathroom. His screams of pain muffled by the hallway door.

It's my youngest sister, Cameron, looking at my stomach with concern. "Don't worry. They dissolved, of course. I had a belly full of 357."

By Dustin Cote 
(C) 2003
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Happy Thanksgiving everyone!