Come on, Joey Chestnut. You're almost there. The finish line is so near your giant mouth you can feel it. Look at all these people. Cheering you on. They're saying, "Hey, we're here because we want to see you make a pig of yourself." Give the people what they want, Joey. Find that inner pig. He probably lives in your stomach.
See? There's barely any hotdogs left. That was a mountain of wieners. But you came in like one of those companies that remove mountains. And you really de-wienered it. Well, maybe that's not the right word but you don't have time to learn all the words. Not when you're the Double Chocolate Chip Muffin Champ in ten states!
Remember when you first started? When you were just an amateur, taking bets at tailgate parties about much ketchup you could drink? Look at you now. People adore you. Food fears you. Sure, sometimes it's lonely. Sometimes you push your celebrity on people who don't know you. You walk into a McDonald's and say,"Hey, who doesn't think I can eat 200 McNuggets?" Sometimes you go to the Sizzler and ask out loud to those dining in, "Hey, regular folks. Let's see how true All-You-Can-Eat Shrimp really is." And when the people are chanting around you, when everyone's laughing as you rain down the uneaten shrimp tails over their heads, it feels like a drug. A drug that makes you very full and sleepy but also invigorates your ego.
You can do this, Joey. Just three dozen more hotdogs and you're the new Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Champion. What's that to you? You ate a lifesize David made from mashed potatoes. On a dare, you ate three of those pool noodles. Don't think of this as three dozen hot dogs. They're like little lincoln logs. You could build a small cabin from those weenies. It's just a little house. You can eat a little house, can't you?
Sure, you can. Because you're Joey Chestnut. You're the macaroni vacuum. You're the Quadhafi of Corndogs. You're Attila the Honeybuns. You are the living blackhole. If they bake it, you will come.
Give them what they want, Joey. Eat it all. Eat the whole world.

haha I was able to shake the champion's hand on Coney Island this summer. magical. I haven't washed it since.
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