The Ballad of Lizard Cowboy The sun begins to rise over the Foodies Festival in Oxford. Lizard Cowboy, deep in mental preparation and thoughts about perpers, has already been awake for hours. He's ready. As the time begins to wind down leading up to that inevitable moment where he'll battle against others to see who will be crowned the victor, Lizard Cowboy isn't nervous. He's calm, cool and collected. He knows what he needs to do. At last the moment arrives and the contest is underway. Lizard Cowboy sees the first pod. He smiles internally. He is in his happy place. A place where pods and Ragnarok bars flow like the waters of Capistrano. As he moves further and further through the rounds, the other contestants start to perspire and gag due to the toll the searing heat is taking on their bodies. Lizard Cowboy shows no reaction, no sign of slowing down. He will not stop until all the pods are devoured. "Howdy, y'all. I'm here for your perpers." he thinks. As the last pods are placed in front of him, he stares thoughtfully at them. "Is it now time? Will I finally feel the burn?" As he ponders these questions, he doesn't notice the last contestant fighting as hard as he can to keep the pods down. Every fiber of the last contestant's being is straining against his body's natural urge to expel the fiery pods until he just can't take it anymore. Lizard Cowboy, not noticing the last contestant has evacuated his stomach contents, continues to eat the final pod in front of him and finishes it with a steely look of resolve and satisfaction. Having won the competition, he smiles, takes the belt, and rides off into the perper sunset waiting for the next time Lizard Cowboy hears the call of the perpers. Yeehaw.
