When It Was Still Tasty

While waiting for Maria to correct her amateurish mistake of setting the microwave to "cook" mode instead of "timer," I have plenty of time to execute a psycho-staredown of the two danish. (Danishes? Danishi? Dani? Dictionary.com does not cite a plural form.) I stare at each chunk, imagining where on my body it will find its new home.

Let the games begin.

Minute 1: I immediately start laughing hysterically with my mouth full, a trend which, unfortunately for viewers, carries throughout the experiment.

I sputter the obvious question: "Why?"

Everybody stares at me. They don't know. Okay. Nothing left to do now but keep eating.

So far, the double chin factor is minimal. This will change. I'm also pretty sure that is a pit stain (right), but it doesn't show up in subsequent photos so I'll just chalk it up to pre-gorge jitters.

For those not in-the-know about Raspberry Danish Twist, perhaps a little insight is in order.

This is the worst stuff for you in the world. It's so bad that the serving size on the package (220 calories and 11g fat) is only 1/8 of the product. So, my two-danish minimum will cost me a whopping 3520 calories and 176 grams of fat, plus whatever's in those donut holes. And I still plan on going for a Danish #3 victory lap. And I ate a bucket of fried chicken earlier.

In case you're not grossed out enough, check out this phatty, fatty closeup. With any luck, the icing and jelly filling will sparkle this beautifully inside my gut, too.

Actually, maybe this isn't danish. Maybe it's really a cross section of a human gut that I found on Google Image Search. Only I know.


Pretty soon, I am hysterically laughing again, but this time I politely turn away so that my rapt audience doesn't have to see The Danish Reloaded.

Here we have the beginnings of some double chin action. And this is only the first of four rows on the giant tray.

At first, the light, airy donut holes are a welcome respite from the more dense danish. Placed in between each trio of danish chunks, the donuts can be consumed in half the time, even faster when water is factored in to soften up the carb-sprinkle-glaze combo into a diarrhea-like blend.

I later realize that the donut holes actually taste much grosser than the danish, but that was well after this happy-go-lucky photo displaying my advanced ability to catch food in my mouth.

The energy in the room is so upbeat that Josie considers asking some people walking by on the street below to come watch the circus.

Then she reconsiders. "No, you're right. This is New York City. They'd probably come up here and eat all of the danish."

"Yeah," I agree. "Or, you know... shoot us." I heart New York.

Still giggling, I perform a heartwarming dramatization of what not to do during Entenmann's Challenges - namely, snort up the lines of chunks like cocaine.

I think this could be a great Anti-Drug commercial. "Getting Heavy: The Ultimate High."

This marks the end of my positive attitude during the Challenge. Half a danish down.

This Is Getting Gross

It certainly is. Already I'm falling behind schedule - the danish is just too dense for even my oversized chompers to tear through in time for the next track.

Fortunately, the Boston College fight song "For Boston" comes on next. My confidence is instantly renewed, but I'm facing the largest chunk yet and I just can't get through it. The song's insanely fast pace alarms me as I struggle to keep the beat with my chewing.

"Hey, don't feel rushed, it's just the music," says Maria, who is in charge of time. "However, you have five seconds," she adds.

15 minutes: Upon further review, these donuts taste like dirty dish sponges.

26 minutes: I keel over in my chair, panting. The contents of the feast don't seem to be traveling anywhere. It's as if the 26 pieces found each other inside and merged back into their original form right above my ribs.

To make matters worse, Alaina, who is supposed to be transcribing quotes and significant occurrences, is loudly telling some pathetic story right into my left ear. Why won't she shut the F up? Nobody should be having fun right now.

In other news, my double chin is coming along nicely. I also seem to have developed some juicy danish-induced zits. Small price to pay for... wait, what's the point of this?

Someone suggests I stand up in order to increase the gullet-to-gut flow. I jump up excitedly but then almost fall down, dizzy and disoriented thanks to the excess baggage.

I look like I'm either sick of eating danish, about to be sick from eating danish, or ready to attempt the no-touch public toilet pee.

The Challenge continues