1983 Draft Lottery Show

[Eazy P]

Good Afternoon and welcome to The 1983 Glizzy Gobble Gauntlet: An NBA Draft Lottery Extravaganza!

In a desperate, wiener-fueled attempt to secure the top pick in the 1983 NBA Draft, representatives from eleven struggling NBA franchises face off in the most prestigious, and disgusting, hot dog eating competition ever conceived.


BigDaddy: (Tapping the microphone, which screeches feedback briefly) WOOOAH NELLY! Can you feel that, folks?! That ain't just the indigestion from the pre-show chili cheese fries, that's the electric energy of PURE, UNADULTERATED COMPETITION! And speaking of bringing the flavor, let's give a massive, greasy thank you to our incredible sponsors who made this meat-fueled madness possible: The Krewe of Japan Podcast! That's right, folks, just like a mighty Mardi Gras Krewe, they're rolling deep with the good times, and just like the legendary eaters from the Land of the Rising Sun, they know a thing or two about conquering a challenge! So tune in, subscribe, and tell 'em your Big Daddy sent ya after you’ve recovered from this wiener-palooza!

BD: (Grinning ear to ear, then striding to the podium, microphone squealing slightly) NOW! LAAAAAAAAADIES AND GENTLEMEN, BOYS AND GIRLS, AND ALL YOU HUNGRY, HUNGRY HOOPS FANS! Welcome, welcome, WELCOME to the event that has the entire sporting world... mildly perplexed! ...


DOUG: (Energetic, fast-talking host): HEY NOW, GLIZZY GOBBLERS AND HOOPS FANATICS! Doug here from The Krewe of Japan Podcast, and folks, if your stomach isn't already rumbling louder than a Shinkansen train, you must be DEAF! We are BEYOND stoked to be sponsoring today’s absolutely legendary, probably medically inadvisable, 1983 GLIZZY GOBBLE GAUNTLET!

Jennifer: (Cool, slightly sarcastic co-host): That's right, listeners. We usually talk about everything from Shibuya crossings to sumo slams, pop culture deep dives to peculiar Kit Kat flavors. But today? Today, we're all about the ART of competitive consumption. We're talking about men staring into the abyss of processed meat, all for a shot at Clyde Drexler. It’s beautiful. It’s disgusting. It’s peak 80s. It’s… frankly, why we signed up to sponsor this.

DOUG: You said it, Roxy! We at The Krewe of Japan Podcast appreciate dedication, whether it's to mastering an arcade game or… inhaling fifty hot dogs in ten minutes! These gladiators of the gullet are putting it ALL on the line – their dignity, their digestive tracts, their team’s entire future! It’s more drama than a primetime soap opera, and twice as messy!

Jennifer: So, while these brave souls are testing the absolute limits of human endurance and their waistbands, and you’re trying not to lose your own lunch, remember who brought you this magnificent meat-filled mayhem.

DOUG: That’s US! The Krewe of Japan Podcast! When you’re done witnessing this wiener wonderland, and you’ve hosed yourself down, find us wherever you get your podcasts! We’re serving up fresh episodes weekly, with way less sodium, but just as much bite!

Jenn: We promise, our takes are usually easier to swallow. Usually.

DOUG: So don’t be a weenie! Join the Krewe! The Krewe of Japan Podcast! Now, let’s get back to the action before someone starts seeing the face of Clyde Drexler in a relish stain!

[Eazy P]

The crowd, a mix of bewildered locals and a few die-hard basketball fans, murmurs with anticipation. Upbeat, slightly cheesy 80s music plays.)





BD: (Striding to a podium, microphone squealing slightly) LAAAAAAAAADIES AND GENTLEMEN, BOYS AND GIRLS, AND ALL YOU HUNGRY, HUNGRY HOOPS FANS! Welcome, welcome, WELCOME to the event that has the entire sporting world... mildly perplexed! Tonight, we're not just talking basketball, oh no! We're talking B.O.L.O.G.N.A.! We're talking W.I.E.N.E.R.S.! We're talking about the future of the National Basketball Association being decided by the sheer, unadulterated GUTS of these eleven brave, possibly foolish, individuals! This, my friends, is the 1983 GLIZZY GOBBLE GAUNTLET!

(Polite, confused applause. A lone vuvuzela sounds.)

BD: That's the spirit! Now, you all know the stakes! The grand prize? Not a lifetime supply of antacids, though that might be a close second! No, the winner of this intestinal Olympiad will secure their team the coveted NUMBER ONE PICK in the upcoming NBA Draft! We're talking Clyde Drexler, folks! We're talking a franchise-altering talent! And it all comes down to who can conquer... THE DOG!



BD: Let's meet our panel of judges! First, a man whose competitive eating career was so legendary, they say he once ate a hot dog... sideways! Give it up for the incomparable, the indomitable, "HOT DOG" NATTIE!


Nattie: (Gruffly) No dunking buns in your grandma's prune juice. Keep it clean. And if I see one speck of "reversal of fortune," you're disqualified and cleaning the latrines. Got it?

BD: (Chuckles nervously) He means business, folks! And next to him, a man whose town is synonymous with sizzling sausages and questionable mayoral decisions! He’s put the ‘portly’ in ‘important’! Please welcome, MAYOR McSAUSAGE!


Mayor McSausage: Howdy folks! As we say back in Porkrind Purlieu, "May your buns be fluffy and your wieners be… well, you get the picture!" Just happy to be here and see some good ol' fashioned competitive consumption! Remember, it ain't over 'til the last dog barks… or someone pukes. Heh heh.

[RPF]

BD: Wise words, Mayor, wise words. And now, for the warriors of the wiener! The sultans of the sausage! The... well, you get it! Let's bring out our contestants!

BD: First up, representing the Atlanta Hawks, it's The Syndicate "Atlanta Hawk" Eye Johnson! They say his pre-game ritual involves staring intensely at a picture of a bald eagle devouring a snake! Hawk Eye, my friend, quick question before we begin: If you could have any superpower to help you win today, besides an infinitely expandable stomach, what would it be?

Hawk Eye: CAW! The power to hypnotize these dogs into jumping down my throat! CAW! Less chewing, more swallowing, more winning!

[RPF]

BD: Bold strategy! Next, from the Mile High City, it's "Denver Nugget" Jedihero! Jedi, you look like you wrestle bears for breakfast. Tell me, what’s scarier: a grizzly bear or a five-day-old gas station hot dog?

Jedi: Well, that depends. Does the hot dog have that iridescent sheen? 'Cause that's a bad sign. But a sow with cubs? Yeah, I'd rather take my chances with the questionable wiener, as long as there's no relish. Relish is the devil's confetti.

[RPF]

BD: Fascinating insights! And here he is, from the Garden State, representing the New Jersey Nets, Ed "Blaqmoon" Genovese! Ed, word on the street is you once ate an entire meatball sub without using your hands. Any truth to that? And more importantly, will that skill translate to hot dogs?

Ed: (Smirking) Hey, what happens in my cousin Tony’s deli, stays in Tony’s deli, capiche? But let’s just say these hot dogs? They’re gonna take a long, one-way trip to… fuhgeddaboudit! And yeah, the hands are for show. It’s all in the jaw, baby. Like a python unhinging for a… well, you know.

[RPF]

BD: Oh Boy, I think we do! Moving on! From the Windy City, it's "Chicago Bull" LogP "The Messi Brisket" Bronstein! LogP, Chicago is famous for its hot dogs – no ketchup, of course. Any controversial condiment opinions you’d like to share with the class before you dive in?

LogP: Ketchup on a hot dog? That’s a felony in Cook County! It’s mustard, onions, relish, sport peppers, a pickle spear, tomato wedges, and a dash of celery salt, or you’re eating it wrong! But today? Today, I’m a condiment chameleon! Whatever it takes to get that number one pick for Da Bulls! Even if it means..…a little ketchup. Don’t tell anyone I said that.

[RPF]

BD: Your secret’s safe with us, LogP, and the thousands watching! Next up, representing the Dallas Mavericks, it's "KeepIt100" ! KeepIt100, you’ve got a very analytical look about you. Have you calculated the optimal chew-to-swallow ratio for maximum hot dog consumption?

KeepIt100: Indeed, I have. Based on the average tensile strength of the casing and the porosity of the bun, I've determined a 3.7 chew cycle per segment, followed by a 1.2 second peristaltic propulsion period. Hydration will be key. I've also factored in gravitational assistance by maintaining a slight ergonomic tilt. My hypothesis is a consumption rate of 7.3 hot dogs per minute, with a margin of error of plus or minus 0.2.

[RPF]

BD: Right. Science! Okay! Here he is, cool as a cucumber, or perhaps a chilled pickle spear, representing the San Antonio Spurs, Santiago "12 years a Spur" Sanchez! Santiago, your composure is legendary. What’s your secret to staying so calm under pressure, especially when faced with a mountain of processed meat?

Santiago: Señor, in Texas, we face bigger challenges before breakfast. A few dozen hot dogs? It is merely a snack before the real meal. The secret is simple: breathe, believe, and never let them see you sweat… or regurgitate. It is a matter of pride, and a strong antacid.

[Eazy P]

BD: A man of stoic strength! And now, from sunny San Diego, representing the Clippers, it's Skip "The JNR" Callahan! Skip, my man, you look like you just paddled in from a gnarly surf session. What’s more challenging: dropping in on a ten-foot wave at Blacks Beach, or conquering this Everest of encased edibles?

Skip: Whoa, dude. Gnarly. Uh, waves are like, whoosh, you know? And these dogs are like… also whoosh, but in your stomach? It’s all about flow, man. Just gotta find the rhythm. And try not to, like, barf on the dude next to me. Dude I am wondering if I should even be here.

[Eazy P]

BD: Wise words, Skip. Let's try to keep the vibes positive, and the contents of your stomach… internal. Next, from the Motor City, it's Tommy "T-Bone" Williams, representing the Detroit Pistons! T-Bone, you look like you could arm-wrestle a forklift and win. Are you planning to intimidate these hot dogs into submission?

T-Bone: (Glares at the hot dogs) Ain't no intimidation. It's domination. These ain't hot dogs. These are obstacles. And I remove obstacles. Detroit needs that pick after what happened last year. And I need to eat. Simple as that. Less talk, more chew.

[Eazy P]

BD: Understood! Crystal clear! And here he comes, launching into the competition, from the Houston Rockets, it's "Launchpad" 78 LaRoux! 78, you’ve got the astronaut helmet on. Are you worried about any… uh… gastrointestinal malfunctions causing a “Houston, we have a problem” situation? I hope you are insured.

78: Negative, Mission Control! The LaRoux Launch System is primed and ready! We're anticipating minor turbulence, perhaps some G-force pressure in the lower abdomen, but we are GO for gastronomic glory! These wieners are merely fuel for our journey to the top of the draft! To infinity… and beyond the bun!

[Eazy P]

BD: I hope your stomach has a good re-entry plan! Next, from the City of Brotherly Love… and apparently, ravenous hunger… representing the Philadelphia 76ers, it's Digiskunk "The Frank-furter" Finkelstein! Digiskunk, you seem a tad nervous. On a scale of 1 to "I just ate gas station sushi," how are your anxiety levels right now?

Digiskunk: Oh, it’s definitely hovering. I also forgot to get my $25 for watching a friend....ya know what forget it, lets not talk about that. I just keep telling myself, trust the process. Chew, swallow, repeat. Norm Nixson is counting on me. The entire City of Philly is counting on me. Oh, dear, is that mustard sweating?

[Eazy P]

BD: It might be you, Digiskunk! And finally, last but certainly not least, from the Beehive State, representing the Utah Jazz, it's Xist "The Jaws" Jacobsen! Xist, you look like you bake a mean apple pie. Is competitive eating a hidden talent, or did your bishop put you up to this?

Xist: Well, gosh, BD, Sister Mildred said my appetite at the church potluck was “prodigious.” I just want to do my best for the team and our community. And Momma always said, “Clean your plate, there are starving lottery teams in other cities!” So, I’m just here to do my gosh-darnedest! And maybe save room for some water. Hydration is next to godliness, they say.

BD: And there you have it, folks! Our eleven gastronomic gladiators!

[Eazy P]

BD: Alright! The rules are simple! Eat as many hot dogs and buns as you can in TEN MINUTES! Dunking is allowed! Condiments are optional but may slow you down! Any… ahem… “reversal of fortune,” as Judge Nattie so delicately put it, means immediate disqualification and public shaming! The contestant who devours the most dogs when the buzzer sounds wins the NUMBER ONE PICK for their team! The order of finish will determine the rest of the lottery spots!

[Eazy P]

BD: Judges, are you ready? Contestants, are your stomachs… braced?




IIIIITTTT'S TIMMEEE!!!!!!!


(The contestants eye each other, then the mountains of hot dogs. A palpable tension, mixed with the smell of boiled beef, fills the air.)


BD: Contestants… ON YOUR MARKS… GET SET… GOBBLE THOSE GLIZZYS!

(A loud air horn blares. The contestants dive in. The eating is frantic, messy, and strangely compelling.)

[RPF]

(A loud air horn blares. The contestants dive in. The eating is frantic, messy, and strangely compelling. Hungry Like the Wolf by Duran Duran blares over the loudspeakers but it's hard to hear over the chewing sounds.)

BD: AND THEY'RE OFF! Look at Ed "Blaqmoon" Genovese from the Nets, folks, he’s not even chewing, he’s inhaling those dogs like they’re pure oxygen and he just ran a marathon! Jedihero for Denver is employing the classic "two-at-a-time" technique, a bold move! And KeepIt100 from Dallas appears to be timing his bites with a stopwatch! This is culinary chaos at its finest!

(The music continues. We see quick cuts: Hawk Eye Johnson attempting to "CAW" a hot dog down. LogP meticulously applying mustard then grimacing. Skip "The JNR" Callahan accidentally dipping a dog in his water cup then shrugging and eating it anyway. T-Bone Williams staring down each hot dog before devouring it. "Launchpad" 78 LaRoux fumbling with a dog at his helmet’s intake port. Digiskunk looking increasingly green. Xist Jacobsen taking small, prayerful bites.)

BD: We’re about three minutes in, folks, and the pace is… well, it’s something! Some of these competitors are looking a little worse for wear already! Judge Nattie, any early signs of weakness? Who’s looking like they’re about to betray their breakfast?

[RPF]

Nattie: (Squinting at Xist Jacobsen) The Utah kid, Jacobsen. He’s treating each dog like it's a solemn sacrament. Blessin' it, chewin' it thirty-two times. At this rate, he’ll finish one dog by the time the draft actually happens next month. And he’s drinking way too much water. Rookie mistake. Gonna be waterlogged before he’s hot-dogged.

BD: Xist, my friend! You look like you're contemplating the existential nature of processed meat! Quick question: If you win, are you going to build a chapel made of hot dog buns in Salt Lake City?



Xist: (Pale, eyes wide, clutching his stomach) Oh, gosh, BD… I… I think the spirit is willing, but the flesh… it’s very, very spongy. And Momma always said, “Waste not, want not,” but… (He looks at a half-eaten dog with profound sadness) …I think my tummy is wanting this particular hot dog… out. I… I must yield. The Tabernacle Choir will be so disappointed.

(Xist slowly raises a trembling hand, a look of utter defeat and slight nausea on his face.)

Nattie: (Bangs a small gong) AND WE HAVE OUR FIRST TAP-OUT! Xist "The Jaws" Jacobsen of the Utah Jazz is done! He couldn’t quite harmonize with those hot dogs! That means the Utah Jazz will receive the 11th pick in the 1983 NBA Draft!

[RPF]

BD: A valiant effort from the young man from Utah! He came, he saw, he barely conquered one dog! Tough break! Mayor McSausage, any words of wisdom for our remaining competitors as the pressure mounts?

Mayor McSausage: Well now, BD, as we say back in Porkrind Purlieu, "It ain't the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the… well, the fella eatin' the dog!" But also, "Know when to fold 'em, especially if your stomach's makin' noises like a cornered badger!" Heh heh. Good on the boy for knowin' his limits!

BD: Wise words, Mayor! But the carnage continues! "Launchpad" 78 LaRoux from Houston seems to be having some technical difficulties with his helmet! 78, are all systems nominal or are we about to see an unscheduled… protein spill?



78: (Voice muffled, frantic banging sounds from inside the helmet) MISSION CONTROL… WE HAVE A… GURGLE… A WIENER JAM! THE INTAKE PORT IS… COMPROMISED! REPEAT, COMPROMISED BY… EXCESSIVE RELISH! I CAN’T… COUGH… I CAN’T BREATHE THE PROCESSED MEAT ATMOSPHERE! MAYDAY! MAYDAY!

(78 stumbles back from the table, clawing at his helmet. Two stagehands rush to help him, finally prying it off. His face is bright red and covered in mustard.)

Nattie: (Bangs the gong again) AND THE ROCKET HAS FAILED TO LAUNCH! "Launchpad" 78 LaRoux is OUT! His helmet has become a condiment coffin! The Houston Rockets will receive the 10th pick!

[RPF]

BD: A dramatic flameout for Houston! He reached for the stars but was brought down by a rogue pickle slice! This competition is relentless! Digiskunk Finkelstein from Philly, you’re looking more haunted than a house built on an ancient hot dog burial ground! You okay there, buddy?

Digiskunk: (Sweating profusely, eyes darting around) The process… the process is… betraying me, BD! I trusted it! I ate the dogs! I even… (leans in conspiratorially, whispering hoarsely) …I even considered a dunk! But my stomach… it’s staging a hostile takeover! It’s muttering things about… "never again"… Oh dear… OH DEAR…

(Digiskunk suddenly lurches forward, hand clamped over his mouth. His eyes are wide with terror. Judge Nattie leaps back, brandishing his ruler like a weapon.)

Nattie: REVERSAL OF FORTUNE! WE HAVE A REVERSAL! CODE BROWN! I MEAN, CODE RED! FINKELSTEIN IS BLOWING CHUNKS! OR IS ABOUT TO! EITHER WAY, HE'S DONE!

(Digiskunk, looking utterly ashamed and very green, nods miserably.)

BD: OUCH! And there it is! The dreaded reversal! Digiskunk "The Frank-furter" Finkelstein has succumbed to the meat sweats and the upheaval from within! The Philadelphia 76ers are OUT and will pick 9th! Somebody get a mop and a priest!

[RPF]

BD: The field is thinning, folks! The weak-stomached are falling like flies at a sausage sizzle! Skip "The JNR" Callahan from the Clippers, you were looking so chill, man, what happened? You look like you just saw a shark… in your coleslaw!

Skip: (Eyes half-closed, swaying slightly) Whoa… dude… the… the flow… it, like, totally harshed my mellow. One minute I was one with the wiener, the next… the wiener was, like, staging a protest… in my esophagus. Not cool. My stomach’s doing the Macarena, man. I’m out. Gotta go catch a real wave… of nausea.

Nattie: (Bangs gong) And the tide has gone out on the San Diego Clipper! Skip "The JNR" Callahan is beached! The San Diego Clippers get the 8th pick!

[RPF]

BD: From the surf to the turf, and now to the curb! Tough break, Skip! Tommy "T-Bone" Williams! You were a machine for Detroit! What happened? Did a dog finally fight back?

T-Bone: (Grimacing, clutching his jaw) Nah, the dogs are cowards. But my… my jaw… I think I unhinged it like that snake-dude Genovese was talkin' about, but it ain't going back! And the… the sheer volume… even a Piston runs outta gas eventually. Detroit… we fought hard. But we’re done.



Nattie: (Gong!) T-Bone has been T-KO'd! The Detroit Pistons run out of fuel! They’ll pick 7th!

[RPF]

BD: The Motor City is stalled! KeepIt100 from Dallas! Your scientific method was flawless on paper! Where did the calculations go wrong in practice?

KeepIt100: (Pale, glasses fogged, clutching a stack of printouts) The… the human variable! I… I failed to account for the… the gag reflex logarithmic curve! My simulations did not… (he gulps) …did not predict this level of… internal rebellion! The data is… tainted! I must… recalibrate… elsewhere!



Nattie: (GONG!) Science has left the building! KeepIt100 has been 0wned by the dogs! The Dallas Mavericks get the 6th pick!

[Eazy P]

BD: His hypothesis has been debunked by a barrage of buns! We’re getting down to the real iron stomachs now! Santiago "12 years a Spur" Sanchez! You were the picture of composure! But even you look like you’ve seen a ghost… of hot dogs past!



Santiago: (Wipes his brow with a surprisingly steady hand, though his face is ashen) Señor BD… even the Alamo eventually… was breached. My intestinal fortitude… it has raised the white flag. The 12 years a Spur spirit of competition is willing… but the esophagus is weak, and the threat of… ahem… a premature fiesta… is too great. San Antonio bows out with dignity.



Nattie: (GONG!) The last Spur has been… de-spurred! Santiago Sanchez is done! The San Antonio Spurs will pick 5th!

[Eazy P]

BD: A moment of silence for a truly valiant effort! We are down to the FINAL FOUR! "Chicago Bull" LogP "The Messi Brisket" Bronstein! The Syndicate "Atlanta Hawk" Eye Johnson! Ed "Blaqmoon" Genovese for the Nets! And "Denver Nugget" Jedihero! These men are titans of the tube steak! Warriors of the wiener!






BD: LogP! You’re from Chicago, the hot dog capital of the world! You can’t let Da Bulls down now! One more for the Gipper… or at least for a decent draft pick! What’s going through your mind? Is it the agony of defeat or the agony of indigestion?


LogP: (Panting, a wild look in his eyes) It’s… it’s the ketchup, BD! I can feel it… judging me! I thought I could handle it for the team, but it’s… it’s an affront to everything holy in the world of cylindrical meat! My ancestors… they’re screaming! I can’t… I can’t betray them! I’m out! For the sanctity of the Chicago dog! NO KETCHUP!

(LogP dramatically throws down a half-eaten hot dog, on which a tiny speck of ketchup can be seen.)



Nattie: (GONG!) A crisis of condiment! LogP has been undone by his own principles! The Chicago Bulls are eliminated! They’ll pick 4th!

[Eazy P]

BD: He stood for something, folks! And that something was mustard! We are down to THREE! Hawk Eye Johnson of Atlanta! Ed "Blaqmoon" Genovese of New Jersey! And Jedihero of Denver! The tension is so thick you could spread it on a bun! Hawk Eye! You’ve been squawking and battling! Is there one more "CAW!" left in you for the number one pick?



Hawk Eye: (Eyes glazed, but a flicker of pride remains. He attempts a squawk, but it comes out as a weak gurgle.) CAW… The eagle… has… eaten too many… snakes… I mean, dogs. My… my crop is full. Atlanta… I gave it my all. But the altitude… of these hot dog mountains… is too much. We fought hard… for Dominique....uhhh shit deferent timeline..... for Dennis Johnson! Third place… it’s better than being pigeon food!

Nattie: (GONG!) The Hawk has been grounded! The Syndicate "Atlanta Hawk" Eye Johnson is out! An incredible flight, but he’s landed just short of the top! The Atlanta Hawks will pick 3rd!