Billionaires and Dora

"Yes George! You can do it!" Ian cheered and clapped as I stuffed spicy chicken wings in my mouth. It was an eating competition, a competition where hungry people like me belonged.

"Ian, this-this is too spicy! Tissue please!" I called out to Ian who rushed to me with a box of tissue papers. Water was streaming down my eyes and nose and sauce dripped from my mouth as Ian tried to wipe it. Gross, but tasty.

Initially, the competition was fun with delicious chicken sliding down my tummy. The pepper sauce was so hot that I was afraid I would have to sit in the bathroom the entire next day. The sun was shining brightly and the ground felt like a hot, iron pan which just added to my bathroom worry. I hoped that my bladder would be alright.

Clark was leaning against a car and coolly staring at me competing with a bunch of gigantic men, thrice my size. I was still aiming to win and maybe I could with determination and loosening my pants buttons.

Some men gave up and passed out on the chairs