Not ten minutes later, I found myself wearing a special hat with a fake cheese wedge on top of it. The hat itself was simple, with two wooden pegs sticking out the top, upon which the cloth and wire cheese wedge had been planted. Apparently, given the various races, each with noggins of a different size and shape, it was far easier to shape the hats differently and make the fake cheese separate items to be placed on top. Chooka herself eagerly sported her own, and after careful adjustment from a nervous merchant, Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle each had one as well, although not before sniffing each in turn in hopes that the hats were edible.
A veritable trail of saliva could be found in our wake as three ravenous hydra heads ogled every food stand and sniffed at every wafting scent that promised consumable delights. My Skills kept them in check, if barely, but they sang their song of hunger relentlessly. Onlookers beheld a sight of wonder and terror at a trio that sang a tune both pleasant and captivating, their harmony having improved greatly since they were knee-high to a grasshopper. Chooka did her best to avoid the food stands, but every nook and cranny that could hold at least half a stand selling one thing or another was not left unoccupied by peddlers of all sorts. Chooka cooed to The Boys as she petted them tenderly, promising them that we were heading to a place to eat directly.
I believed I understood what food Chooka wanted for them, and I feared that someone would go bankrupt tonight if I were correct in my guess. Fortunately, that someone would not be me, so I followed along as Chooka marched us to our destination. At one wide intersection, a stage had been set up, one with several groups of tables of different sizes for each group. A banner hoisted high about the stage listed it as “Dol’n’Durn’s Cheese Eating Contest”, and Chooka wasted no time in taking us to register for it. I had a fair guess as to which one of us would be signing up. A well-dressed, middle-aged orc stood at a counter just off the stage where people could sign up, and his cheerful expression turned to dread as he witnessed our approach.
“I’d like to sign up my hydra for your contest,” Chooka said to the orc as she leaned upon the counter. “Your sign says you accept anyone. I reckon he’s big enough to be in your heavyweight class.”
The orc looked up at the hydra heads, each one salivating hungrily as they looked at him. “Erm, yes, anyone can sign up. I don’t know if multi-headed creatures count as one or separate entries. This is all rather unprecedented,” he finished flatly as he fiddled with some forms, trying and failing to organize them neatly as his hands trembled. The orc looked around nervously, as if trying to find a way out of the mess he found himself in. “Let me… let me check with my partner, Dol. One moment please.”
The orc took off with the enthusiasm of one who wanted to be anywhere but here. Chooka tapped her fingers rhythmically as she waited with a ferocious grin upon her face. After a few moments, the orc returned with a male dwarf, one as well built and stocky as the orc, although noticeably shorter. The dwarf looked up at Chooka, then to the hydra, then back to Chooka, as if he were uncertain of which one disturbed him more in this moment.
“Right then,” the dwarf muttered as he finished sizing us up. “I’m Dol, and the rules do allow pets to enter. I’d guess since yours has one body, that it is one creature, but depending on how things go, you could expect the rules to change next time. I’m just glad that I have benefactors that sponsor this contest. This is really more of their headache, not mine.” Dol grabbed a form and filled out some of it, then handed it to a looming Chooka. “Here you go, you are in the third heat.” Apparently satisfied, Dol turned to walk away, muttering under his breath as he left us and an awkward Durn, if my process of elimination had correctly identified the orc.
“It should start soon,” shouted an excited Chooka as she turned to face us. She smiled with satisfaction, the same smile I would expect from a fiend that just sealed a dark pact that had a hidden loophole to her favor. “We need to wait, then our precious children can have all the cheese they can eat.” At the mention of cheese, The Boys perked up, ceasing their song for just a moment. Chooka coddled them, whispering reassurances as she left me to my private musings.
More people and their pets showed up, but I had seen only three contenders in the same weight class as The Boys, namely one of those beasts of burden that were mostly mouth and tail, a geckodon, and a giant armadillo-anteater beast, with its long snout most likely being the prominent mechanism that would aim to steal first place. Contest helpers organized contestants, and when needed, their handlers, and we found ourselves situated stage left. Within minutes, illuminators shone down a spotlight on stage, centered on the dwarf, Dol.
“Ladies and Gentlemen!” shouted Dol to the crowd as he motioned for them to quiet down, to little avail. “People please, silence yourselves as the contest is about to begin.” A vein bulged on his forehead in irritation as half the people gathered continued to chat away, with miccen being the bulk of those culprits. A synchronized roar of three angry hydra heads turned in the direction of such prattlers worked wonders to silence them, and after a pause to make sure no one piped up, The Boys huffed before facing forward once again. “Uh, thank ye,” said Dol as he cleared his throat. “The world famous Dol’n’Durn Cheese Eating Contest is about to begin. I welcome each and every one of ye to our 43rd contest. I am Dol, and I will be your Master of Ceremony for tonight’s events. This year has been sponsored by House Netheon and House Rayvidia, so please, thank them for their patronage when you get the chance.”
Dol rattled on for a while longer before the first heat lined up on stage. The smallest tables were brought front and center. Gnomes, miccen, riccen, those frog-turtle people, children of other larger races, and other smaller races I did not recognize were represented amongst the contestants. The rules had been outlined in detail, but they basically boiled down to eating as much cheese as fast as one can without any of it coming back up. Cheap ale and water was offered to help keep the ol’ cheese chutes lubricated, and as Chooka had explained, past choking deaths had necessitated such offerings. The contestants sat in their chairs with one wheel of cheese before them, and each contestant appeared eager to prove his or her worth. A small army of helpers postured to bring more cheese as needed from a nearby wagon.
“Alright you lot. Are all contestants ready?” A gnome had started to complain about his chair needing more padding, but Dol turned a deaf ear as he rang a nearby bell. “Begin!” he shouted.
With gusto, the contestants munched away as fast as their little mouths could go. They had five minutes to wolf down as much as they could, and if they stopped eating, they would have to cease entirely and step away. The reaction from the crowd was rather mixed. The smaller races cheered their hearts out, but the larger races appeared to be only mildly entertained. For her part, Chooka cheered as loud as she could as she jumped up and down in excitement, leaving me to hold back our hungry hungry hydras as they stretched their necks as close to the stage and the cheese thereon as much as they could. One riccen managed to finish one whole cheese wheel, the wheels being the size of a dinner plate and about a finger deep. Most of the others had to bow out at around half a cheese wheel, leaving the victory for the riccen, who was no doubt now a hero to his people. A prize was awarded, a golden trophy of a tiny wedge of cheese. Second and third received silver and bronze medals without much fanfare.
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And so the first heat was over. Helpers directed the contestants off stage as the next batch took their places. The second heat was for middleweights. Humans, orcs, elves, dwarves, remnimi, and other races that I did not know well at the time, with a total of 24 contestants by my count as I watched them file up the stairs ahead of me and onto the stage. As they took their places, the remainder of us shimmied forward awaiting our turn. I could only see about half the stage from where we stood, but apparently that heat roused the spirits and enthusiasm for cheers and heckling in equal measure from the crowd. I don’t know who won or how close the contest was, for three large heads and necks blocked my view most of the time.
And so, the finale was upon us, the heavyweight class, which was essentially large pets. Handlers were required on stage, and so Chooka and I accompanied The Boys as we took center stage. The rules for this were a little different, as we could choose between whole wheels or wedges of cheese. The geckodon and snout-monster handlers chose wedges, while the mouth-tail handler and I chose wheels. The Boys danced in place, lifting one foot off the stage at a time as they shifted back and forth in anticipation. Another wagon had been brought forward for additional cheese, and upon looking at the determined faces of the helpers, I reckoned this would be where they earned their pay. I had to calm The Boys, giving them instructions to be careful not to eat anyone as they devoured the cheese, for which they paid attention as best as they could, seeing as how their loyalty was divided between me and the cheese wagons.
Three cheese wheels were placed before The Boys, and I had to hold them back with the full extent of the Skills granted by my Blessing. These wheels were at least twice as big in all dimensions as those in the first contest. For five minutes, The Boys would get to experience pure bliss, and I wondered if they would last that long, or perhaps, if the supply of cheese in the wagons would last that long, for I knew not which way that would go. Each table had its own judge to keep track of the cheese consumption, with a noticeable exception to my own, which had three judges, all of whom were located on the ground but pressed up against the stage. The other creatures jostled eagerly as well, and if I were to gamble, I would wager that the other handlers likewise starved their contenders for today, given how antsy they were.
“Contestants, are you ready?” shouted Dol as the crowd remained silent. The motley throng of spectators continued to suppress even hushed whispers, and the tension remained so thick upon the air, one could have sliced it with a cheese knife.
“Begin!” roared Dol, who then promptly dove for cover out of the way.
Four hungry beasts, collectively with six hungry mouths between them, almost instantly devoured what cheese had been placed before them. The small army of helpers, with practiced efficiency, unloaded the cheese, tossing it from one to the next as they passed it up to the stage. After the first minute, not a creature started to slow pace, and the helpers had all but abandoned placing the cheese on the table, instead favoring tossing it into impatient and seemingly bottomless maws. While I have heard that two heads are better than one, when it comes to eating contests, three are better still. The workers could only toss cheese so fast, and it did not take long for The Boys to have a strong lead.
After two minutes, the geckodon started to slow down, its tongue flitting in and out slower and slower for each wedge of cheese presented to it, the creature ultimately refusing to eat before the third minute. With great gusts of air, the snout-monster sucked the cheese wedges up as fast as cheese could be flung its way, with its snout sporting three cheese wedge shaped blobs at any given time as they made their way down its gullet. Ol’ mouth-tail chomped away, with dull enthusiasm, but ultimately ended up puking everywhere rather unexpectedly by the third minute mark, much to the apparent distress of the now cheese-covered spectators nearby. The contest appeared to be down to two, but one brave snout finally sniffed its last before the creature as a whole curled up for a nap.
With a whole minute to go, the contest was now rather literally neck and neck (and neck) between the hydra heads. Socrates, the cheeky bugger, figured out he could snatch the cheese going to the others while still getting his own, and soon a race sprang to life to snatch the incoming cheese while pushing the others out of the way. Chooka and I had to step in to break up the fight, and begrudgingly, order was restored. At no point up to the fifth and final minute did The Boys show any signs of slowing down, but the helpers sure did. The whole lot of them were drenched in sweat, their pace slowed by the mighty exertion of tossing literal tons of cheese. The cheese wheel cart had run out, and so more from the cheese wedge cart had to be brought over. The crowd had gone absolutely wild, their cheering and roaring was almost deafening for those present on stage.
When the bell was struck again signaling the end of that heat of the contest, the helpers ceased their labor and relaxed, if only briefly. Upon seeing the cheese offering ceasing to yield its bounty, The Boys rushed straight off the stage and to the cart of the remaining cheese with speed I had not yet witnessed from them. Terrified helpers jumped out of the way as The Boys devoured the remaining cheese within seconds. The crowd cheered all the louder, and three triumphant hydra heads roared in their victory celebration.
Then The Boys paused in their cheese eating revelry, the cheeks on each head puffing out suddenly as if to contain their gluttonous bounty. The crowd, now in a panic, considering previous demonstrations of overly-full cheese-eating beasts, withdrew with all haste, pushing and shoving in a mad dash to get away from the beast before them. Even above the screams, a horrid gurgling sound could be heard from The Boys’ collective gut, and simultaneously, each head of the hydra let loose a thunderous belch, each one lasting nearly half a minute. The stench of partially digested cheese wafted over the crowd, but much to my relief, nothing of solid mass had been expelled with it. The crowd was rendered mute in awe of such a feat, and after The Boys finished their titanic belches, the street remained eerily quiet. After a few moments, as if on cue, the crowd cheered once more as they applauded with unrestrained zeal in the presence of their new cheese-eating gods.
The judges deliberated for over a minute. They summoned Dol over to them, and after some time spent conferring amongst themselves, the dwarf took the stage. Dol motioned the crowd to quiet, and after they had, he began his announcements.
“The judges have confirmed that, by a landslide, each head of the hydra consumed more cheese than any of the other contestants. In wheels of cheese eaten, Socrates ate 167, Plato ate 159, and Aristotle ate 171. We leave it to you, our wonderful audience members, to decide if they will take first, second, and third place. All those in favor, on the count of three, shout ‘Cheese’.” Dol paused briefly to let the crowd consider all he had said before he continued. “One, two ,three!”
In the many millennia of my existence, through all the ages and across all the lands, I don’t think I have ever heard a unified and vehement shout of ‘cheese’ that could rival the enthusiasm of that crowd. And so it came to pass, with seemingly unanimous consent, that The Boys took first, second, and third place, much to the endless excitement of a cheering Chooka. I cannot remember exactly how I felt at that moment, but I do distinctly remember that two whole weeks passed before The Boys deposited any new leavings.
The Boys, for their part, appeared to have their hunger sated, if only for a moment. Unconcerned with their trophies, they sauntered off down the street in the direction of a water fountain that I knew they were familiar with. I gave chase and watched them greedily drink it dry in a matter of seconds with their mighty gulps. Considering the many tons of cheese they had eaten, plus the full contents of a water fountain, and how their gut appeared no larger than before they started, I feel confident that my theory about their innards being connected to a pocket dimension could be found as scientific fact.
And thus, overnight, a legend ate its way into existence. I remember hearing people mention that feat centuries later, often told by old men and women to a gaggle of youngsters who listened with equal wonder and disbelief. I probably would have felt the same had I not witnessed it, and while the jig was up for any future eating contests within the city, there would be future contests where similar loopholes were exploited.