Justin: In the Feast of Being Able to. Amen.


Friday was my birthday. Jordan took me to lunch at Lewis’ Cafeteria for the Inferno Club. I was excited to go for what is reputed to be the hottest burger in town.

Inferno Anticipation

And it is.

Jordan sweated and cried just a little. I ate fast to get it all in before I could consider my actions.

What is an inferno burger, you ask?

A Burger infused with jabenero peppers, which would be be enough to knock your socks off, except that they top it off with a mound of seedy jalapenos smothered in pepperjack.

For actually eating the whole thing I got a free icecream, which I shared with Jordan because he was literally eyeing the french toast on the plate of the guy next to us in some delusional notion that french toast might ease his suffering.

He later confessed that he was sort of out of his head and honestly felt that to reach over and take the man’s french toast from under him was perfectly alright under the circumstances.

Red faced, sweat running down his neck, I thought he was going to snort my bowl of vanilla.


About 20 men were gathered for this event. Only 5 ordered Inferno items on this day. They have a facebook page I’m told for members of “the club”. Some who had conquered the burger in the past warned, “Tonight you will feel what you have wrought.”

For the rest of the day there was just something not right about my intestines. No pain, no worry really. Just something.

Jordan was thrown briefly to the ground Sunday morning, and I thought of curling up in the floor of the shower Sunday night.

Ok, that’s not true. There was a bit of latent to moderately suggestive cramping going on, but it was less than I supposed it would be.

I’m looking forward to returning for a more conventional burger accented with inferno bacon. That, I’m sure, could prove addicting.

Answer to above Emo-mation: Moses parting the sea with his staff as Pharaoh’s Army approaches!

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