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Paul Davidson

I Can Eat Three Packets of Crackers in Less Than A Minute Without A Glass of Water

The challenges have been “brought” on more than one occasion.

They have been brought at many places. Restaurants, bars, 24-hour mini-marts, walk-in office supply cabinets, hallways, bathrooms and diners. And each and every time, I have triumphed without cotton mouth, without liquid help and without any vocal encouragement whatsoever.

I have eaten three packets of saltene crackers in less than one minute.

The conspiracy theorists have written much on the world’s oldest challenge. The fact that it all tracks back to the 1930’s during the Great Depression, when people had no money for any food except for a few packets of crackers. Street urchins, hungry for food and desperate for money would challenge passerbys a dollar to eat three packets in less than a minute.

There was many a person who was duped, having to go home and admit to losing their daily wage to their loved ones, often resulting in divorce, death and dismemberment. It was a depressing time for citizens and often, a heart-breaking moment for families starving from lack of nourishment. A moment of darkness in a time where there was no light. Sad, starving children.

Today, it’s a fun, exciting care-free game of chance!

I have practiced for hours, in fact, to turn myself from a crumb-munching fool into a cracker-stacking pro. My training consists of waking up each day and eating a cracker an hour. Then, after two weeks of that, I begin two crackers each hour. After three weeks, three crackers an hour. After four weeks, three crackers every half hour. After five weeks, three crackers every fifteen minutes… And after eight weeks, three crackers every minute. All in all, twenty-three weeks in, there is no human who can match my cracker-stuffing technique.

Really, it’s a lot like training for a marathon.

Then, once the training is done, I enter myself into local office challenges… Portraying myself like an easy mark, I lure my competitors into bets that exceed $20 per bet. Then I sit down, cross my legs, and proceed to eat them out of house and home. I am amazing and you wouldn’t believe it if you saw it.

After successful pummelings, disgruntled co-workers with gambling problems try to light a fire within my soul by saying, “Yeah, but I bet you couldn’t eat a slice of Wonder Bread in under a minute! Now that’s hard to do!”

I simply spit the remaining crumbs into their face out of defiance.

Because I am not concerned with bread. I am not concerned with rolls and crossiants and bagel dogs and challah and cinnamon rolls and doughnuts. I am only concerned with saltene crackers.

Because saltine crackers is what I do.

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