Yesterday my dad, my sister, and I ate chicken wings at a place called Wingstop. I ordered ten regular hot wings, and they were unbelievably good- spicy, cooked just right, not too fatty. Then my dad gave me one of his Atomic wings. I took one bite of the peppery shell and I thought I was fine. No big deal. I took another bite. Tears formed in my eyes, and I drained the rest of my soda in one long gulp. Then I ran to the bathroom because my mouth was *on fire*. I took my styrofoam cup and filled it up with water from the faucet. I drank five cups of water and my lips were still burning. I finally regained my composure, so I went back to the table and noticed the pile of bones next to my dad's plate. My dad had eaten eight atomic wings. My dad is superhuman. That's the only logical conclusion I can come up with. Or maybe that the first one numbed his mouth so much that he couldn't even taste the rest.