Too hot to handle

I recently stepped a few million Scoville Units over the line and lived to tell about it.

I am a spice hound, chili fiend, habanero whore - whatever you want to call someone who likes food with a kick. I often tell the story of a Mexican restaurant in Arizona where the salsa was so hot, you left with a buzz.

Last weekend, I finally found my limit. At a novelty shop in Leavenworth, my sister and I ignored the warnings that were displayed next to a shot glass full of blood-red ass-kicking fire sauce. We nonchalantly dunked our pretzel twigs and chomped away. Within seconds, we had hiccups, tears and runny noses. We gulped water, gnawed on soft pretzels and wished we could take back the bullet.

About 15 minutes later, life returned to normal. I don't remember the sauce's brand, but it was a bottle of pure pain. I recall reading "6 million Scoville Units" on the label. Below is chart I stole off Google Images that illustrates a pepper's heat:

That's right. Those 6 million Scoville Units are akin to pepper spray, and all I ate was a few drops of that sauce. I have watched plenty of Travel Channel shows like "Man v. Food," in which the host eats the world's hottest wings, chicken curry, barbecue pork sandwiches, habanero fritters and more. In one episode, the host moaned and writhed in an alley with a jug of milk, and he wasn't acting for the cameras. No longer will I make fun of that host for quitting during a challenge or crying like a baby afterward.