Baptism By Fire
“Too much pepper…way too much pepper,” I say as I begin my 100 meter dash to the bathroom after consuming stewed chicken gone bad--from the local West Indian restaurant.
My stomach agrees as it purges this homage to crap into the confines of my previously sparkling toilet bowl. Just get it in the toilet.
At moments like these I think how awful it must feel for Godzilla as the flames rise from her belly so she can serve up some roasted Kong. I’m sure her belly is coated properly; mine on the other hand IS NOT! I can feel every seasoning from the toxic stew as it makes its way through my system: PEPPER, salt, thyme, curry, and perhaps Adobo or paprika.
“Honey you know that you can’t eat spicy foods.” I give my wife a mental fuck you as I pant hoping the purge is complete, still too afraid to back away from the bowl.
The inspiration for this story was an incident that happened to me (the last time that I've eaten from said restaurant--LOL)