THE CHILI COOKOFF:
By: Wolfie
Summary: Roy is asked to be a judge in a chili cookoff.
Rating: Fluff, pure pointless fluff
Disclaimer: Roy Harper/Arsenal is the property of DC Comics. I'm merely borrowing him for the purpose of torture. I'll give him back sans tastebuds.
Author's Note: I got this chili cookoff joke at work and this is the result. My apologies to all who read this.
WARNING! This is fluff. This story serves absolutely no purpose whatsoever except to prove that my brain has officially flown south (or left the solar system). It should not offend, but you never know. Some people are a bit off (like me).
Roy Harper hefted his daughter from his shoulders and handed her to his friend, Dick Grayson.
"What are you doing, Roy?" asked Dick, perplexed. They had been walking down the street in amiable silence and now he was being handed Roy's adorable and precocious daughter.
"Chili cookoff, Dick. Must go." Roy's green eyes had taken a glazed appearance. Dick got nervous.
"Chili cookoff in New York?" he asked skeptically. "How good can it be?"
"I don't care," Roy said making a beeline for the restaurant sporting a huge sign that said "Texas Chili Cookoff" on it. "I must have chili."
Dick sighed, grabbed Lian's hand and dragged the perplexed child after her father. "Come on, Lian, someone's gonna have to babysit your father again."
Roy ignored his daughter's knowing giggle. The word 'chili' had short-circuited his brain.
The trio stepped into the restaurant and the aroma of cayenne, chili, jalapeno and habenero wafted to them. Roy took a deep breath and a goofy smile came across his face. "Heaven," he breathed.
"You boys chili fans?" boomed a large man in a cheesy cowboy outfit and an even worse fake-Texas accent. "Then sit yaselves down!" He led them to a booth. "Ya might be interested in knowing we're short a couple of judges. Interested in being a judge for the contest?"
Dick groaned when he saw *that* gleam appear in Roy's eyes. "Sure!" Roy said enthusiastically. "We'd love to!"
"What's this 'we' stuff, Harper?" hissed Dick as the waiter beamed at them. "Do I look like a chili person?"
Roy waved away the protest. "Come on, Grayson, be a man. It'll put hair on that chest!" Dick pointedly stared at the shirt Roy was wearing, which had the top three buttons undone. No chest hair was visible. Roy ignored him. "Sign us up and get us started!" Roy informed the waiter.
"Sure nuff!" the man said and hurried away toward a table where a woman was gasping for air.
Roy watched as the waiter brought her a glass of milk and some bread. He shook his head. "Some people should not eat chili. They just don't know how to handle it."
"Harper, I'm going to kill you." Dick's voice was gratingly cheerful. "I hate chili."
Roy turned to his friend with a shocked expression. "How can you hate chili?" he asked outraged. "Its like hating Elvis or apple pie! It's un-American!"
Dick ignored the insult. "What's Lian going to eat?" he asked.
"I loves chili," Lian informed her surrogate uncle imperiously.
Roy smiled proudly at her. "Chip off the old block," he praised. Lian glowed at his approval. Dick rolled his eyes.
"Help," he pleaded to no one in particular.
The contest wouldn't start for a half and hour so the three of them sat around and talked. Actually Roy and Lian talked, Dick sulked, trying to figure out how he was going to get out of this alive. When the time came an even larger man in an even worse cheesy cowboy outfit than their greeter wore stood up to a microphone in the center of the dining room.
"Thank you ladies and gentlemen for attending this here chili cookoff. We have some of the best chili cookers in the United States here today, including the four time winner of the Texas State Chili Cookoff Championship!" There was spattering of polite applause, the loudest and most enthusiastic coming from Roy and Lian. "Now if all the judges will just sit back, we'll serve your beers and start bringing out the chili!" This was met by cheers from the judges, except Dick, who settled on looking disgruntled.
It began. Bowl after bowl was handed around to the various judges. Beers were set in front of each. Dick grimaced when he realized Roy had told them no lite beers. When the first bowl was set in front of them, Roy took a bite, closing his eyes in ecstasy.
"Mmm, this is good. Want some, Princess?" Lian obediently opened her mouth for a small spoonful.
"Mmm," agreed Lian, chewing and swallowing carefully. "Not as good as yours, Daddy."
"No but good nonetheless," agreed Roy. "What do you think Dick?" There was no answer. "Dick?" The mug of beer slammed onto the table and Dick looked a little red around the eyes. "What's wrong?"
"Hot," gasped Dick hoarsely.
Roy and Lian gave him pitying looks. "There wasn't even a good kick to it, Dick. It's a nice mild chili." Dick gave him a disbelieving look and Roy took another bite as if to prove it.
"Now if the judges would score the chili on the scoresheet, we'll bring out the next batch." Roy obediently scribbled his judgement on his scorecard. Dick did the same.
'Holy shit, what the hell is this stuff? You could remove dried paint from your driveway with it. Took me two beers to put the flames out. Hope that's the worst one. These people are crazy. '
The next bowl came out and Dick's beer was refilled. "Could I get a lite-" The waiter walked away and Dick glared at Roy, who was spooning another mouthful of chili into Lian's mouth.
"What do you think, Princess?" asked Roy cautiously.
"Beans," Lian said around a scrunched up face.
"Yeah, I agree too many beans." Roy nodded and noted their opinion on the scorecard.
Dick cautiously took a bite. So much for hoping the beans would help deaden the fire. He choked, gasped, and choked again. Roy and a man from the booth behind them looked alarmed and began exclaiming.
"Are you choking, Dick?"
"Hey buddy, you okay?"
Dick waved them away, took a long draw of his beer, picked up his pencil and wrote:
'Keep this out of reach of children! I'm not sure what I am supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. '
His bowl was replaced with another entry and his beer refilled. People were starting to give him strange looks.
Roy took the first bite. "It's mild, Dick. I can't even taste the spices. It's safe."
Lian took a bite and grimaced. "Now no beans, Daddy."
"It's a beanless chili," Roy told her. "Its supposed to carry the spices through the meat and not everyone likes beans."
"Oh." Lian considered. "It's okay."
Roy noted on his scorecard as Dick took a cautious, small mouthful. He swallowed the chili with a full mug of beer.
'I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it. The waiter is standing by our table with fresh refills; if I was bi-sexual, he'd look HOT just like this chili. '
A new bowl was set before them and Roy took a spoonful. "Wow. Good use of cayenne." Lian eyes the chili with the green peppers in it distastefully. "You won't like it, Princess."
"It's got moldy green things in it," Lian informed her father.
Feeling he had no more tastebuds to lose and his head was spinning from the rapid succession of beers, Dick took his bite. His eyes blurred and he felt gas building in his stomach. He belched, blushed (not that anyone could tell from his already red face) and ignored the sprinkled laughter around the restaurant. He also ignored Lian's giggle and Roy's reproving look.
"Roy, I can't do this. Humans aren't supposed to eat food like this. I'm getting brain damage, Roy. I have no focus!" A woman two tables over gave him a dirty look.
"That was my chili and you're the only one complaining, mister!" she spat at him. Dick gave her a helpless look.
The waiter refilled the pitcher of beer and set it in place of Dick's mug. Dick down four huge mouthfuls, but couldn't taste it anymore.
'My ears are ringing, and I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted and four people behind me burst into flames. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chili had given me brain damage. The waiter just left the pitcher this time.'
The next bowl, they were told, was vegetarian. Both Lian and Roy looked at it as if it had horns. Dick, thinking it would be edible, took a huge bite. His vision blacked and he began to gasp for air. His intestines felt like they were burning through his skin. He was positive this was the end. How would Bruce feel at the funeral? His protege was taken out by a few bowls of chili.
'You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I wouldn't feel a damn thing. I've lost the sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. At least during the autopsy they'll know what killed me. I've decided to stop breathing, it's too painful. Screw it, I'm not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I'll just suck it in through the 4 inch hole in my stomach. '
The last bowl came out and the waiter set it in front of the three of them. Dick's portion was half a spoonful, but it made no difference. He wearily shoved the bite into his mouth and promptly spit it back out (or it fell out, not many could tell). He shoved past the waiter and beelined for the big sign that said "Cowpokes' Outhouse".
Roy calmly picked up his pencil and noted on Dick's scorecard:
'Judge was unable to report .'
Fifteen minutes later, Dick came out, paid his bill and left, leaving Roy and Lian to trail in his wake.
"Dick," Roy began.
"Speak to me and I'll belch on you, I swear to God, Roy, and it won't be pleasant."
Roy winked at his daughter, who merely grinned back. "You're a real joy at barbeque cook-off, aren't you?"
Dick lunged for Roy's throat and Lian merely giggled.
~The End~
See? Told you! Pointless.
^-^ Wolfie