There are too many stories out there about people who think they can handle “extra spice” when they absolutely cannot handle extra spice.

What’s extra funny about them is that way too many will continue to eat, despite their body literally weeping against their will.

OP worked in a burrito joint when an unpleasant customer entered the fray.

A long time ago in what seems like a different life I was working in a burrito restaurant, on the weekend late shift. Simpler times!

During a quiet period we had a gay couple come in to order. They were very nice and respectful with a good bit of banter thrown in.

While we’re serving them another person enters and I’m immediately on high alert. This guy looks like a classic ned (to those not from the West coast of Scotland this stands for non-educated delinquent – think a Karen but more prone to violence than manager-asking).

Immediately this guy starts with the prejudiced abuse towards the nice couple who we are nearly finished serving, interspersed with some mild nonsense aimed at us.

He is quickly told to knock it off and is clearly a little upset at this. The abuse drops to a trickle, but still there and still an unpleasant individual.

When he bragged about how spicy he liked things, OP saw his chance for revenge.

The nice couple leaves and we’re deciding whether to serve this clown or bounce him (context: I was a collision sport athlete in excellent shape, he wanted absolutely no part of me), but before we decide he moves on to stage 2 of the ned playbook. Bragging.

“I don’t feel spice”, “Nothing can hurt me”, “Give me the spiciest thing you have”, etc.

Well now! We used ghost chillies (Naga jolokia) for our extra hot salsa so we loaded up a burrito with loads of the stuff, but if course this was not enough for our dear ned friend, no. Because nothing can hurt him. We’re obviously not understanding this.

Little did he know I’d whipped up a special batch of staff-only extra hot salsa with about 3x the amount of ghost chillies in it.

So we tell him about this and of course it HAS to go in his burrito, despite our earnings against this. Have we not been listening? He doesn’t feel pain.

So in goes a generous portion of this nuclear salsa.

But the guy demanded even MORE spice than OP originally planned to give him.

I know you’re thinking we’re done here, but no. Our dear friend really doesn’t think we’ve understood how little spice affects him. He needs more. “Chop a ghost chilli into it”.

We gave him every opportunity to walk back from this demand, but no, he needs pure ghost chilli. I bring one up from our store cupboard and chop a little into his burrito. But haven’t I been listening? He needs the whole thing!

I end up chopping about 3/4 of the thing into it. I’m looking at this insane burrito worried I might burn a hole in his stomach, but also slightly excited to see this dose of instant karma, but still the bragging hasn’t stopped.

He won’t need a drink, it’ll be the mildest thing he’s ever eaten, I’m sure you can imagine the rest of his nonsense!

He immediately realized he was in over his head.

He takes the first bite into his burrito and is happily chewing through it, clearly delighted that he was right about the spice level.

He’s just into his second mouthful when his face changes to concern, followed by surprise and then utter panic. He’s backed himself into a corner and there’s no way to win!

Tears are streaming down his face at this point and he very embarrassedly asks for a drink, but of course Fanta only makes the spice worse.

It’s now he fully realises the magnitude of the error he’s made. This fire will not go out, he’s going to need our genuine help to get through this.

He is immediately apologising humbly and asks if there’s something we can do to help. We bring him a large glass of milk so he can at least survive and head off into the night with his tail between his legs.

But he still finished the whole spicy thing.

In an unexpected turn, he continues eating the burrito from hell while sipping the milk and somehow manages to finish the whole thing.

Still with tears pouring down himself, he thanks us, apologies again, gets a milk reload, and leaves for greener pastures.

Despite his unpleasantness, I have to give him props for finishing that burrito. He was not in a good way the entire time and it was as fitting a punishment as I could have hoped for.

The top comment says we all know what the consequences were.

You can’t fight your body, after all.

Only almost, though.

Ghost peppers burn all the way down.

This person says it was the perfect trifecta of consequences.

Pride goeth before the fall and all of that.

This guy absolutely regretted his choices later that day.

If you liked that post, check out this post about a rude customer who got exactly what they wanted in their pizza.