“So the thing in peppers that makes your mouth burn is capsaicin. It’s not really a burn, though. It tricks your brain into thinking it is, but it actually causes inflammation in your mouth’s heat receptors.”
Becks sticks out her tongue and looks at it cross-eyed, and CJ laughs. “I don’t think they’re visible to the naked eye, but I do know that Howard’s will be very inflamed by the end of the night.”
She flips her hair over one shoulder and starts to rebraid it.
“So I’m sprinkling dehydrated superhot peppers onto a few hors d’oeuvres and adding hot pepper slices to a few others. Samson recommended ones with a delayed heat release, so it’ll hit gradually. Oh, and the slower Howard chews, the more he breaks down the pepper seeds and the more pain he’s in.” She smirks. “Samson’s serving some extra chewy food tonight.”
Becks’s mouth drops in delighted shock. “So he’ll just be chewing away and spreading…?”
“Capsaicin,” I say just to make sure they haven’t forgotten I exist.
My beloved sister doesn’t even glance at me, she’s so focused on her new hero. “So he’ll just be spreading that all over his mouth?”
“Yep!” CJ says cheerfully. “We’re keeping the amounts small, frequent, and not in every single dish.”
“Lulling him into a false sense of security,” Drea says. “Nice.”
The three of them cackle like they’re about to stir a cauldron full of chicken broth, death peppers, and the bones of their enemies.
“You are all terrifying,” I inform them.
“Thank you!” CJ says. “And yes, I was prepared to let you eat a crab puff with pepper dust just now, and I’ll do it again.”
To soothe myself, I imagine her being pecked to death by one of my geese, but Becks can’t get enough.
“Oh my god, tell me more.” She kicks her feet like a little kid. “I need detailsssssss.”
“They learn so fast. I couldn’t be prouder.” CJ pretends to wipe away a tear, ignoring my muttered request to stop encouraging her. “Here’s a tidbit, my blonde friend: Howard’s stir-fried kabobs will feature Trinidad scorpion peppers. Super slow release and Samson’s adding them to the oil in the last thirty seconds to keep from diluting the capsaicin in the oil.”
“Next you’re going to tell me that dessert is just a chocolate-covered Carolina Reaper,” I grumble.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” CJ hops to her feet and brushes off the backs of her thighs, causing the veins in my temple to throb. “It’s a flourless Mexican chocolate cake dusted with more dehydrated superhot peppers. And to top it all off?—”
“How is there more?” I ask, but everyone ignores me.
“As Howard’s mouth catches on fire and makes him want to die, he’s going to ask for something to drink. Alcohol makes the burn worse, so the Rumple Minze isn’t going to help.” CJ inclines her head at me, finally acknowledging my sabotage efforts. “But cold water? That’s the magic. It’ll just slosh the capsaicin around his already burning mouth. So we need to make sure every server has a nice glass of ice water on hand when he asks for it.”
Drea snorts from her slumped position on the couch. “Come on, everybody knows to drink milk if you’re doing a hot wing challenge.” She nudges Becks. “Remember when Holly got his picture on the wall of Bugsy’s Tavern for eating, like, twenty pounds of hot wings? He basically dunked his head into a full gallon of milk afterward.”
“God, that was gross.” Becks shudders.
“It was,” I agree. “But I once watched Howard order plain rice at a Thai restaurant because it was the only thing on the menu he was willing to eat, and he still complained that it was too ‘ethnic.’”
I deploy the air quotes Darby was using against me earlier, and CJ rolls her eyes as hard as I do.
“So he has no idea what to do with spicy food,” she says. “And not only will he want to throw himself into a snowbank tongue first, but it’s the perfect gaslighting situation. Nobody else’s food will be this hot, so they’re going to think he’s overreacting to a tiny bit of spice.” She stands and bows to her audience. “And that, my friends, is how you drive away potential investors.”
And after a moment of silence, Becks starts a slow golf clap that Drea briefly joins.
“That’s so evil,” my blonde sister says. “I love it.”
Drea frowns. “Isn’t Howard going to notice when it’s always the clown elf bringing him torture food?”
“Yeah.” CJ fingers the end of her braid. “That’s the flaw in the plan.”
Becks and Drea exchange a glance, then say, “We’ll do it.”
To her credit, CJ’s already shaking her head. “Nope. I don’t want to get either of you girls in trouble.”
