Ron threw some preparatory air punches. This may be the most important competition of his life. He needed to prove himself to the wizarding community that he was the Iron Stomach. Even though the name sounded cliché, but Hermione thought of it and it wasn't like his idea was any better.
As the red head prepared for his face off with his favorite thing in the world, he had to wonder why Harry had decided to sign him up for an eating competition. Of course, he could handle anything they threw at him, but it was still curious. He knew Harry was looking for revenge after the Christmas card incident the previous year. This could be it.
Ron saw a group of people dressed in white coats push carts of piles of food out to the stage.
"Is that what we are going to be eating?" He asked them.
"Yep," one of the chefs replied. "Whoever can eat three platters of these deep fried tarantulas first wins."
Ron gulped.