The pain was exquisite: an unrelenting burning agony. He blinked back tears that welled up reflexively; he would not show weakness before his foes. His hands balled up into fists but not even the bite of fingernails into his palms could distract him. A cold sweat broke out on his brow.
Incredulous applause erupted around him. Twenty-four Yarders had tried and failed; only Watson had been able to finish the searing Andhra curry laden with extra chilis. The accolades were sweet, Watson reflected, but would've been more enjoyable had his mouth and throat not been a fiery line of anguish.