(Props: Break.com)
Depending on the spiciness of the sauce being used, a hot wing-eating contest can be one of humanity’s most emotionally-harrowing competitions. Ask this sweaty bastard. The last thing you want to do is mess with somebody who has just completed one of these things. And yet, here we have this pathetic, shirtless excuse for a floor-turd in a backwards Fred Durst-esque fitted douchecap, first grabbing the mouth of Guy in the Middle, then de-pantsing G.i.t.M. during his moment of exhausted triumph.
Guy in the Middle calmly turns around and lands one perfect straight right, and the sore loser goes into wet-noodle mode. And the best part is that nobody around them — not the crowd, not the announcer, not the other contestants — seems to mind one bit. The world can be a beautiful place, sometimes.
(Props: Break.com)
Depending on the spiciness of the sauce being used, a hot wing-eating contest can be one of humanity’s most emotionally-harrowing competitions. Ask this sweaty bastard. The last thing you want to do is mess with somebody who has just completed one of these things. And yet, here we have this pathetic, shirtless excuse for a floor-turd in a backwards Fred Durst-esque fitted douchecap, first grabbing the mouth of Guy in the Middle, then de-pantsing G.i.t.M. during his moment of exhausted triumph.
Guy in the Middle calmly turns around and lands one perfect straight right, and the sore loser goes into wet-noodle mode. And the best part is that nobody around them — not the crowd, not the announcer, not the other contestants — seems to mind one bit. The world can be a beautiful place, sometimes.