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Jaws wins second Wing War

By editorial assistant Sandi Toxic

Posted May 14, 2014
jaws wins wing war
Wing war warriors: Jaws retains his crown. © Pork in the Park

Joey 'Jaws' Chestnut romps to victory in Maryland chicken wing fest; Adrian 'the Rabbit' Morgan second; Michelle 'Cardboard Shell' Lesco third; Miki Sudo fourth.

San Jose-based superhuman superscarfing superhero Joey 'Jaws' Chestnut has gobbled his way to glory ahead of a stacked field at the Eastern Shore Wing War Sponsored By Mountaire Farms with a gut-busting belly bounty of 220 formerly feathered fried fowl flappers in f-f-f-12 minutes.

Staged this past Sunday (11/5/14) as part of Pork in the Park BBQ Festival in Salisbury, Maryland, the Major League Eating- (MLE) sanctioned gobathon saw him not only retaining the robes of office he won at last year's inaugural bash, but also pocketing a cool $2,500 (£1,482).

Judging from the final gut hauls, it would seem that this was a fairly comfortable victory for the human-shaped chomping machine, with Jaws pulverising some 18.3% more aeronautical animal appendages than his nearest rival, the incredibly on-form Adrian 'the Rabbit' Morgan, who noshed his was through 186 of the f--kers to pick up silver sausage to the tune of $1,200.

Once more setting the cat among the pigeons, Michelle 'Cardboard Shell' Lesco provided yet another upset by becoming the first woman ever to outgorge Miki Sudo, racking up bronze and sponds worth $700 for an engobulation of 166 wings to Miki's fourth-placed tally of 164, a jaw score that nevertheless netted her a nifty $300.

Rounding out the money, Tim 'Eater X' Janus gormandised a gross to grab $200 while the Rake & Herald's's all-time favourite alimentary athlete, the wonderful, the fantastic, the fantastically wonderful Sonya 'the Black Widow' Thomas fell two short of the world belching champ's total to take home a ton for sixth.

Hopefully, we'll have some exclusive quotes for you, yes YOU, the cherished and beloved readers of the Rake & Herald, in the not-too-distant so long as we get our communal arse in gear and hassle a few eaters with a load of tedious questions.

What we can't promise you, however, is a first-hand account of the action but fortunately we know a man who can.

Yep, that's right, this year's Wing War line-up also included stalwart sporting scribe 'Beautiful' Brian Seiken, who turned 59 to chyme to place 13th and who has a well bloody exclusive from-the-trenches report you can read over on right here right now.

Anyway, hats off to all who took part, emceed, cooked, fed, sponsored, organised and/or generally ensured that the Wing War was a roaring success.

And big salutes too to MLE for sticking the full results up on Twitter thus enabling us to copy and paste them here on the hallowed pages of the Rake & Herald.

Bish bosh!

In go the shallots!

1) Joey 'Jaws' Chestnut (220 chicken wings in 12 minutes; $2,500);

2) Adrian 'the Rabbit' Morgan (186; $1,200);

3) Michelle 'Cardboard Shell' Lesco (166; $700);

4) Miki Sudo (164; $300);

5) Tim 'Eater X' Janus (144; $200);

6) Sonya 'the Black Widow' Thomas (142; $100);

7) 'The Lovely' Juliet Lee (133);

8) Marcos 'the Monster' Owens (127);

9) Steve Hendry (123);

10) Yasir Salem (97);

11) William 'Wild Bill' Myers (87);

12) Crazy Legs Conti (68); and

13) 'Beautiful' Brian Seiken (59).

But what, you may well be wondering, have we been doing these last few weeks instead of dutifully covering the major events in the world of gurgitation as though we were actually paid to do so?

Well, as regular readers of the Rake & Herald may well be aware, we've recently moved from our erstwhile abode within the Hollow Earth to plush new offices inside the Hall of Records beneath the Great Sphinx of Giza and as a result we were left without a bloody interweb connection for what seemed like sodding ages.

And flippin' pippin' 'eck did we miss a shedtonne of MLE-sanctioned scoffathons while we were offline!

Fortunately, though, thanks to some pretty hi-tech forensic sleuthing, viz having a root round the MLE website, Twitter feed and the ever excellent Eat Feats database, we've been able to piece together pretty much what happened while we were sitting around wanking like a teenage boy with an underwear catalogue.

And here's what we discovered…

rouse's top three
The Crawfish Three: CLC, the Rabbit and the Black Widow. © MLE

It was a dark rainy night, the sort that could send shivers down the spine of an octopus with a hammer, when word came in over the grapevine that something big had gone down in New Orleans.

My senses jangling, I sidled over to Greasy Joe's on Fourth and 32nd and ordered a neat pastrami on bourbon and a 1 oz (28.3 g) bowling ball of sock phlegm that would turn a goose loose if it weren't free already.

I had to know what the big kafuffle in the Big Squeegee was so I took a perch from a fish tank and gave the joint a once over with a J-cloth.

The punk I needed to see was over by the jukebox, folding a napkin till it hurt.

Willie the Pimp.

Who else?

If any lowlife nostril face could give me the chowdown low-down, this rat tomago hammock slug was the slime ball to talk to.

I slipped him a roll of 10s then shoved his head down the toilet to make him talk.

Within 15 minutes he was singing like a canary with an organ up his grifter.

Turns out this past April 12 an MLE eater and local hero by the name of Adrian 'the Rabbit' Morgan had only gone and dethroned four-times reigning crawfish queen Sonya 'the Black Widow' Thomas at the Rouses World Crawfish Eating Championship.

I gave the Pimp another bog wash and out came the facts like an ostrich with its guts on fire.

Seems the Rabbit pulled off his coup in real style, shoving 2.7 lbs (1.2 kg) of unshelled crustaceans down his foodtube in 10 minutes flat to the Black Widow's 2.2 but, like a friend of mine's wife on her wedding night, I still wasn't satisfied.

I knew the Pimp was holding out on me so lit a damp Camel from my Y-fronts and stubbed it out on his eyelids.

"What's the word on the street, you punk-assed son of a witch?" I screamed at his shoes, which had now turned the wrong shade of green.

I pulled his head out of the chod bin to give him a chance to breath.

There were turds all over the place but that didn't mean he'd brushed his teeth lately.

"Everyone knows that the Rabbit's no slouch when it comes to shuffling shellfish down his shouter," he gasped, spitting bog water from his lungs like a fountain of foaming piss.

"Hey, you've only gotta look at what he did at the Foodabluza Oyster Eating Championship last year when he shovelled 318 oysters into his gut to take third or the Acme Oyster Eating World Championship a couple of months later when he again won bronze with 18 dozen dead denizens of the deep down his drainpipe," he coughed.

"But that Black Widow, she's one hell of a lady when it comes to seafood and similar freshwater fauna."

"Hey, she came, like, first in both of those two aforementioned events and she ain't never been beaten at Rouse's before, so give me a break, the Rabbit's done real good there."

He was right.

What more could I say?


So I shot him three times in the head with my snubnosed .38, but not before he'd given "major salutes" to Crazy Legs Conti (CLC), who placed third ahead of King Voodoo himself, Corey 'King Voodoo' Fanguy, who just so happened to tie for fourth with Natalie 'the Cajun Nurser' Belko.

I dipped the Pimp's finger in his pooling red crimson then scrawled the full results on the restroom door for the feds to find later.

1) Adrian 'the Rabbit' Morgan (2.7 lbs of unshelled crawfish in 10 minutes; $1,000);

2) Sonya 'the Black Widow' Thomas (2.2; $500);

3) Crazy Legs Conti (1.9; $300);

=4) Corey 'King Voodoo' Fanguy (1.8; $100);

=4) Natalie Belko (1.8; $100);

6) Chef Aaron Burgau (1.7);

=7) 'Nasty' Nate Biller (1.6); and

=7) Damien 'the' Boykin (1.6);

NB. Eat Feats lists 'Nasty' Nate Biller as placing fourth with 1.8 lbs down his gut but we've gone with what MLE says because they're the governing body and they also wear hats. Now back to the film…

After all that action, I needed a drink and a think so I blew out the khazis and took a stool at the bar.

Greasy Joe wasn't too pleased about this because he doesn't much care for his patrons emptying their guts on the floor but I told him to cool his bazookoids then pistol-whipped him until he started spitting blood and something about ice cream eating.

Turns out the very same day the Rabbit was lifting his crawfish crown (12/4/14), Joey 'Jaws' Chestnut was busy adding yet another world record to his list of gob-based accolades.

This time over in Lakeland, Florida, where Greasy Joe swore blind he spooned his way through 15 US pints (7.1 litres) of ice cream in just 6 minutes to win the Second Magnify Credit Union World Ice Cream Eating Championship.

"Remember," Greasy Joe said, suddenly coming to his senses before I beat them out of him again, "last year Jaws rocketed back 14.5 pints to win the inaugural chowdown, which means…"

"Which means what?" I shouted, grabbing him by the brisket and pulling him over the counter like a whale with a harness for a cock.

"Which means he obviously don't get brain freeze much," he replied.

I was non-plussed like a subtraction.

"Cut it with the wise eye remarks, you pus-soaked loin cloth, and gimme the name of the person who came second or, so help me, I'll empty a basket of chives all over your mother's lawn."

I'd been paintballing with a shepherd from Alcatraz all week and I was in no mood for being shuffled around like a duke with a cat comb under his foreskin.

"Her name's Sudo," he blurted.

"Miki Sudo… lives over in Vegas... in a house or similar structure probably."


I'd heard the name before but never in the context of ice cream.

I felt like a fish who'd just lost his lobster.

I wanted answers and I wanted them fast, which is why I told Greasy Joe: "I want answers and I want them fast."

Then I remembered I should give him some questions first so I asked him where babies came from and how come the sky's blue but the good-for-nuthin' rattleskunk must've misheard me on account of all the rabbit skulls I'd glued to my teeth for a bet.

"It was her début in this particular discipline and a damn fine one too," he wheezed.

"According to the MLE website, she 'kept pace with Chestnut throughout and finished with 13.5 – as good as anyone has eaten in this event not named Joey Chestnut'."

"'Sudo,' MLE continues," he continued, "'found something in this event that has perhaps eluded her in competition thus far in 2014: a clear and simple rhythm.'"

"'She ate like a contented woman, happy in the knowledge that she was doing well in something she is good at.'"

I let him gulp a few gulpfuls of air then quit with the nice guy routine.

"You quoted that verbatim from the MLE website?" I asked, but he had other things on his mind and I don't mean lava, space exploration or those aglets you get on the end of your shoelace.

I'm talking future world wrestling champ Ronnie 'Mega Byte' Hartman, who may well have changed his name to Ronnie 'the Real American' Hartman but I'm not 100% sure right now.

"That was one hell of a mouth match for Mega Byte too," he simpered as I wrapped a tourniquet round his neck.

Clearly, I wasn't the only one not sure if Ronnie was now the Real American or not.

I kicked him in the balls for a giggle.

"Didn't you hear?" he asked, his eyes bulging from their sockets.

"He scarfed 10.5 pints and tied for third with Michelle 'Cardboard Shell' Lesco – it's his highest placement in championship competition to date."

"I say well done to him."

Then his arm exploded and out popped the full results.

1) Joey 'Jaws' Chestnut (15 pints of ice cream in 6 minutes; $2,000);

2) Miki Sudo (13.5; $1,000)

=3) Ronnie 'Mega Byte' Hartman (10.5; $500);

=3) Michelle 'Cardboard Shell' Lesco (10.5; $500);

5) Brian 'Dud Light' Dudzinski (9.25; $200);

=6) Bryan Weller (7.5; $50);

=6) Michael Jenkins (7.5; $50);

8) Daniella Gioia (7.25);

9) Jason Smith (6); and

10) Sean 'Wrecking Ball' Brockert (4.5).

"Fast forward a fortnight and Jaws was once again in the winning seat but only just."

The voice was gruff but it wasn't Greasy Joe talking.

It was Captain Rodney O'Rourke of the Sacramento Nipple Squad.

But for all I cared he could tell it to the Frisians.

There was no way I was going to the chair.

I always stand when I piss.

"You can't pin nothing on me," I said, deliberately using a double negative just in case he could.

"Oh, yeah?" he replied.

"Well what about this?"

O'Rourke took a hefty drag on his fat cigar then hit me with a brick.

My nose erupted like a volcano of blood.

Which was weird because he'd hit me on the foot.

It didn't stop him talking, though.

"Jaws won his first doggam championship title at the World Deep Fried Asparagus Eating Competition in Stockton, California back in 2005," he screamed, showering me with spittle and giving me my first wash in a month.

"Some even say it's his competition."

"So are you telling me Jaws wasn't keen to regain his crown at the 2014 instalment (26/4/14) after being beat last year by his bitter rival and good friend Matt 'Megatoad' Stonie?"

The Captain had a point but fortunately his flies were zipped up so I couldn't see it, although his trousers were definitely tenting like a big top.

"Likewise," he went on, "Megatoad was probably pretty darn determined to hang on to his hard-won bounty as well, don't you think?"

"What are you trying to say?" I shot back like a leopard in a box of panty liners.

"A total trouncing of the previous world record (WR) and quite possibly one of the tightest tooth-offs in the history of human existence and trees, that's what I'm getting at," he barked, crouching down on all fours and shooting me a herring bone the size of an onion.

Then he pulled out a sheet of paper he'd made with the earwax of a bee called Lenny and began quoting the MLE website at me.

It was the second time that evening and quite frankly I was impressed with his reading skills.

"'The existing WR of 9 lb 5.2 oz was crushed at the six-and-a-half-minute mark,' MLE says," he said.

"'The only question was how plump and juicy would this new record be?'"

"'And who, with Joey and Matt going bite for bite, would prevail?'"

"How the hell should I know?" I said.

"I was on the other side of town when Jaws shoved a whopping 2 lb 8.75 ozs of San Joaquin Valley asparagus down his gut to Megatoad's silver-winning12 lb 6 oz!"

I could see the Captain had bought it but there was no way he was going to stop quoting MLE at me now, not until I'd admitted to at least three double homicides and an overdue library book on stamp collecting in Russia.

In Russia.

We were in for a long night.

I made a cup of cocoa and farted.

"'Stonie'," the Captain said, eyeballing me like a ram with a clam up its pram once the fumes had dissipated sufficiently to breathe, "'was pipped by just 2.75 oz.'"

"'It may as well have been 2.75 lb, such is the emotional distance between first and second.'"

"'Oh, and $750, too.'"

I squeezed out another beefy eggo, this one more silent but definitely more violent than the first.

As I expected, the Captain began to cry like a chimp in a skirt so I told him what I knew about Miki Sudo to make him feel better.

"You know she made her first MLE championship appearance at last year's event, don't you?" I said, carefully leaning over the desk to remove his revolver while he blubbed into a little pink hanky with embroidered posies on it.

"Well, she took bronze again this year with 7 lb 4 oz down her craw while Steve Hendry scoffed a full 5 lbs of this smelly-wee-wee-inducing vegetable to come fourth."

Suddenly, the Captain sat bolt upright and wiped his eyes, including the one he kept in a box out Boisie way.

"H-h-how could you know that?" he stammered.

"Let's just say I've got friends in high places and I don't mean the Catskills," I said.

"Now read out the results or I'll blow your doggam face off!"

1) Joey 'Jaws' Chestnut (12 lb 8.75 oz of deep-fried asparagus in 10 minutes; $1,500);

2) Matt 'Megatoad' Stonie (12 lb 6 oz; $750);

3) Miki Sudo (7 lb 4 oz; $500);

4) Steve Hendry (5 lb 4 oz);

5) Chad Cole (2 lb 8 oz);

=6) Jonathan Vincent (2 lb 4 oz);

=6) Cameron Sharp (2 lb 4 oz);

=8) Cameron Bidwell (2 lb);

=8) Jon Davis (2 lb);

10) Muhammad Mahmoud (1 lb 12 oz);

11) Daniel Osuna (1 lb 4 oz); and

12) Felicia 'Who Is Charming' Lopez (1 lb).

corn debris
Who's a mucky pup? Deductions down in Florida. © George Shea

That Miki Sudo's one hell of a dame, I'll give her that.

The very next day after wolfing all that asparagus (27/4/14), she shows up on the other side of the States to compete at the 12-minute National Sweet Corn Eating Championship in West Palm Beach, Florida.

Now if that ain't fast walking, what the hell is?

I was desperate to find out so I took a ride up to the Big House on the outskirts of town to see if any of the cons inside had a printable answer.

I was in luck.

Sedgely Parsley, aka the Bowery Bum Bandit, who was doing a 12-stretch for sequestering a pony with the wrong form, knew more about walking rapidly than anyone alive.

Or dead.

He also knew a few other things too.

Like how at first it had seemed that Miki had landed top gong with a belly bonanza of 47 ears of corn while last year's silver medallist CLC again looked to be taking home second prize after necking two more cobs than Bob 'Notorious B.O.B.' Shoudt, the reigning sweet corn king who had shoved back 44.

"Meanwhile," Sedgely said while the guards weren't looking, "Erik 'the Red' Denmark took fourth with 43."

But there was more to it than just that and the Bowery Bum Bandit was keen to let me know he knew it.

"Whaddaya mean 'at first it had seemed that Miki had landed top gong'?" I asked, rising to his bait like a worm to a cook.

"Don't you know?" he smirked.

"There were a shitload of deductions."

"Ends up CLC comes out on top with 43 while Miki and Notorious B.O.B. tie for second with 42 each."

"The Red stays fourth but his count's down to 40."

"Don't ask me what the deductions were for, though," he said, suddenly lowering his voice and looking all kinda nervous, like a sheep on a gonad ranch.

"Spill it, punk," I demanded, "or I'll tell everyone in here you once threw a ball like a girl!"

He tried to look all tough, like a gas cylinder on a pile of feathers, but I could see the fear welling in his ears.

"It's more than my life's worth in here… if they catch me talking to a dick like you."

"Come on, Mickey," I said, forgetting his name, "don't leave me dangling like a winnit on King Kong's arse."

"You gotta tell me what the deductions were for."

His eyes darted from one side to the other like a bat with a ratchet but I knew I'd pressed his button.

"OK," he said, "I'll tell ya."

"The deductions were made because…"

And then a doggam gorilla jumped out of his rectum and beat the bastard to death with its fists.

But before he drew his last, Sedgley beckoned me nearer.

"What is it?" I said, because I wanted to know what it was.

"Twitter, check Twitter…"

"Check your shitter?" I said in disbelief.

"What, for more gorillas?"

"No, you shagspot," he replied in his heavy Brooklyn/English public schoolboy accent, "the answer is on Twitter…"

Then he did that death rattle thing and immediately reincarnated into a spoon.

An hour later I was holed up in some seedy motel outside Fresno with a cheap hooker and a golf pro, checking out the Twitter account of George Shea, MLE chairman and compère beyond compare, while my two companions discussed the German Bauhaus movement of the 1920s and early 30s.

It was there while the hooker sang the praises of German Modernism that I read the following tweets (repeated here verbatim): "Turmoil and outrage at World Sweet Corn-Eating Championship as Crazy Legs (43) edges out Bob Shoudt and Miki Sudo (tied for second w/42)."

"Legs, Shoudt nearly come to blows. Judge Sean Brockert reviews both counts, stands by ruling. Legs's ears not clean; Shoudt pile of niblets."

"Shoudt wags ear in Legs's face. Legs slaps it away. Shoudt claims assault. Good news: Hertz upgraded me to Caddie."

I asked the golf pro what 'Caddie' could mean.

"Something you put tea in," he replied.

"But what about the full results?" I asked.

He leant over to the hooker and whispered something in her eye.

I sensed danger and I wasn't wrong.

"There ain't no full results, sugar tits," the hooker said through a hole in her pants.

"There's only what we got from Eat Feats, with fifth place onwards coming unofficially from Josh Miller, who placed sixth."

"Now are you gonna let me get on with my discourse on Walter Gropius or am I gonna have to grate cheese all over your armpits again?"

Let's just say I soon smelt like pizza.

1) Crazy Legs Conti (43 ears of corn in 12 minutes; $2,500);

=2) Miki Sudo (42; $1,125);

=2) Bob 'Notorious B.O.B.' Shoudt (42; $1,125);

4) Erik 'the Red' Denmark (40; $500);

5) Michelle 'Cardboard Shell' Lesco (32; $250);

6) Josh Miller (31);

=7) Eric 'Badlands' Booker (30); and

=7) Adrian 'the Rabbit' Morgan (30).

Outside in the parking lot, a fight was brewing.

Some street tough by the name of Frankie Baloney was squaring up against an old mattress a dog had just peed on.

"Keep it quiet, you bums!" I shouted, rubbing cheese from my shirt.

"I'm trying to sort some crayons by density here!"

"Shut it, old man," the mattress replied, a spring protruding from its ripped fabric like a duck with a waltz on its tail.

"Yeah, moonhat," Baloney joined in.

"Me an' this mattress have got business to settle, like who won the Nathan's qualifier held this past April 26 at the New York-New York Hotel & Casino in Las Vegas, Nevada, a city so good they named it twice?"

"Simple," I said.

"Pablo 'Pabs' Martinez with a gut count of 26 hot dogs and buns (HDBs) in 10 minutes and in so doing he narrowly snatched victory from the jaws of veteran speedscarfer Rich 'the Locust' LeFevre, who boshed 25."

Then the phone rang.

It was the motel manager, a one-eyed limpet with a leg in plaster and a dog that shat itself awake each night.

Seemed he wanted to know which of the ladies had gone through to the Nathan's final.

"The Locust's wife Carlene," I told him, slamming down the receiver before I'd even picked it up.

But Baloney wanted more.

In fact, he'd just climbed through the window and taken a tyre jack to my face.

"So how many did she eat?" he wanted to know.

"A baker's dozen," I told him, spitting blood from my ankles, "and Mary 'I Love 'Em Hot!' Bowers gourmandised nine and Laura Heywood six."

He fell backwards, the colour all drained from his pockmarked anus of a face.

"So I Love 'Em Hot!'s out of the contest?" he asked, a tear welling in his eye.

"No, you big sack of mucus, because on May 3 at the next Nathan's qualifier in Houston, Texas she scoffed 11.75 HDBs to win her ticket to Coney, along with the Red, who, in turning 36 HDBs to mush in his guts, chalked up his ninth consecutive seat at the gobathon of gobathons."

"Meanwhile, Juan 'More Bute' Rodriguez finished second with a personal best of 31, ahead of Nasty Nate (21); Jimmy Chiu (18); and Tony 'Bam Bam' Martinez (13)."

Then Baloney clunked me with a sandwich full of lead and I fell into a deep dark hole, the bottom of which with even deeper and darker than the top, which was pretty deep and dark to begin with.

When I awoke I was down at the precinct, lying in a tiny holding cell with a corpse I'd whacked a few months ago.

He wasn't smelling so good so I told him that Pabs and the Red will now join Aaron 'A-train' Osthoff in taking on Jaws for the coveted mustard belt this coming July 4 while Mrs Locust and I Love 'Em Hot! will line up alongside Val Bromann in a bid to wrest the women's title from the Black Widow.

He still didn't say much so I went through his pockets and found a video of the ice cream eating that Mega Byte had kindly sent us a link to (many thanks, sir!).

So here it is now, embedded on the Rake & Herald from Mega Byte's YouTube channel, which you can check out here.

Then I woke up and it was all a dream.

Right, gotta go.

Reality beckons.

Bummer, eh?

See also Jaws wins Wing War, posted 22/4/13, and Like a turd that won't flush away, posted 6/5/14.

Sandi Toxic
was raised by wolves inside a disused clay pit near Lanjeth. You can befriend her on FaceBook here. She is still quite feral.

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