Culinary Competition

It was a mountain
Of seven inch
Pink firm and warm
Nestled in soft warm buns

Hot dogs

I grabbed the ketchup
Gave it a squeeze
Raining red paste down
Confident I could eat it all
With lazy ease

This has been a long process
I think I'm almost ready
Nationals are only two weeks away
And I have more working out to do

One hand on a hot dog
The other on a stopwatch
I click the start button

Into the trough of water goes the hot dog and bun
Open goes the mouth
Gape goes the throat
In goes the hotdog
I chew as it slips inside
One, two, three, four

Which
If you're keeping track
Divided my hotdog plus bun plus ketchup
Into five equal parts
Which tumble down my throat
Like refuse down a hi rise garbage chute

Splashing down into my stomach
Stretched out like a gonzo porn star's bumbershoot

I repeat the process
One after the other
Until the plate is empty
And then my mouth

I click the button
I look at the clock
One minute fifty six
I have to do it faster!
I think to myself as I eat a couple cool down hot dogs

These I've dressed to the nines
With mustard added to the ketchup
Onions, relish, and a bit of chili
It helps me settle my stomach
And stretch it just a little bit more

I can use all the edge I can get