A Chili party? No, really, chili?

Ah, the great Chili Puke Your Guts Off, or something like that. It all started off simple enough, just some people in a backyard.

And see, my chili is on the left. That's pretty cool. I'm in a cook-off!

This was my first clue that things were about to go horribly, horribly wrong. Another North Dakotan in the contest? Who actually has the pure, anadulturated gall to announce the fact?!?!?!?

But things seemed to return to normal. Look, a cute kid and a cute kid's mom. Maybe this place isn't so bad after all...

But trouble was certain to start. It all began with Larry attempting to find the mute button. Damn you, Larry!

Now Brad had to try and "fix" his own TV. Of course, he became so transfixed by the Gophers special teams' disaster that he was rendered immobile for half an hour.

See, this picture was taken half an hour later.

When he did finally get off the floor, his mother wanted him to try on some fancy new satin panties. I didn't realize it was going to be that kind of party.

If Scott doesn't post any pictures, it's not because he didn't bring his camera. Ha!

A number of people bolted outside to try and avoid Brad, who was inside modelling his new panties.

I then became fire-obsessed. Larry is fixing the fire!

The fire is bigger!

Dang, the fire is smaller!

More wood for the fire! That'll do it!

Oooh! The fire with a different camera setting!

At some point a winner was announced. This is the awards ceremony, I think.

Eventually I realized that I was sitting across from Satan. It was at that point that I decided to leave. Satan and I have a strict non-compete clause.