Chapter 49 (cont.)

 

Chug Sonya

 

Dan and I are not delusional. We realized that trivia, beer, and the opportunity to see a man scorch his balls were only so much of a draw for the healthy male UD student. Enter the “Quizzo Girls,” whom I’m sure you think were just pretty faces with great cans. While you would be close, the three Quizzo Girls that lasted over a year each not only met those qualifications, but had an onstage personality that really added to the show. But best of all, they could drink.

 

While all of our Quizzo Girls have been beautiful, sweet, and memorable, only one has earned her own spot on the Quizzo Wheel; half Irish, half German, one hundred percent bananas, Quizzo Sonya was by far the most talented drinker. (Digger’s Note: Sonya is not in actuality her real name…but TRUE Kate’s Quizzo fans will undoubtedly know exactly who this girl is!)

 

In her defense, I do not mean that she would just show up to the show and get drunk. On the contrary, Sonya more often than not left sober…screaming at Dan and me to stop drinking.

 

Sonya’s gifted drinking ability came from the fact that she could open her throat as wide as any down-and-out Hollywood actress. And it was this strength that earned her the CHUG SONYA spot on the wheel.

 

While those two words may conjure up desire in a man’s loins, anyone reading this who saw Sonya’s prowess knows those words actually struck fear into the hearts of men. You see, when the wheel came to rest on “Chug Sonya,” the winning table got to choose any one of its players to come up, and chug a sixteen ounce cup of Bud Light against Sonya. If you beat her, you got a second pitcher, if you lost, you only got one. Sounds like a win-win situation, right?

 

It was, until you factor in that you’re a dude chugging against a 124 pound chick and if you lose, you are going to hear about it as you slink back to your table amidst the jeers of “pussy,” while spending the rest of your college days being labeled as the dude who got out-chugged by a girl. And you WILL lose to Sonya.

 

We have thirty-seven instances (in a row?) of this theorem being proven with not a single instance to refute it. Sonya went 37-0 in her chugging appearances. No steroids, no blood doping, no corking, just good old-fashioned drinking.

 

I can’t even remember how the space on the wheel came to be. I just know that once she got to around 15-0, we had a hit. I mean, people rooted for it on the wheel, screaming for the Chug Sonya space. They wanted to see Sonya get toppled.

 

Now, I will admit the smarter tables (that would often win rounds) were less likely to have a beer chugging champ. Revenge of the Nerds is pretty true to the laws of science. But the law of averages -- and I am an expert on average, ask any woman I have slept with -- says that in 37 instances there are most certainly going to be more than few worthy adversaries…and it only takes one to blemish a perfect record.

 

Of all the men who clamored to challenge Sonya each week, the most persistent was this big kid. We’ll call him Mongo. He was the everyman we met in college. About 5’11” and thick. He wasn’t fat, but thick enough to have played linebacker in high school, but not big enough to play in college, so he turned his competitive nature to the only thing his Tommy Boy / Blutarsky mind could…drinking. And he was good. Everyone at Quizzo knew he came for one reason; a shot at Chug Sonya.

 

In the Fall of 2004, Mongo became like a rogue Quizzo player; hanging with teams that would harbor him knowing he was only good for maybe two answers a night. Therefore, the teams he was on wouldn’t win rounds, and consequently didn’t earn the chance to spin the wheel or a shot at defeating Sonya. But regardless, every Monday he taunted Sonya before each show. She’d taunt back, “You’ve got to spin it, to win it.”

 

Then one night the inevitable happened; his team won a round, and their spin landed on Chug Sonya…and before the three of us knew what was happening, we turned to the thundering of the crowd, and on the stage stood Mongo.

 

The crowd was going wild; tired of watching Sonya the heavyweight beat up on the bookworm featherweights. They were ready for a marquee match-up. And to the naked eye, Sonya was grossly outmatched…but she did what any great contender would do. Sonya picked up her solo cup like David grabbing his sling, loaded it with Bud Light, and waited.

 

I was inches away from the two adversaries. I saw firsthand the look in each of their eyes. Mongo’s eyes full of anticipation for the sweet face-off and victory that had for so long eluded him. Sonya’s eyes spoke of a simple nostalgia of a simple run, and savoring her last precious moments of perfection.

 

The Chug Sonya game was simple. I started the countdowns at three. The audience would chime in at TWO…ONE…and Dan would blast music as Sonya and her opponent chugged. It took three maybe four seconds tops, and it’d be over. So, as Sonya and Mongo stood face-to-face clutching cups, we counted down and everyone yells, “GO!” The crowd cheered and music blared.

 

Mongo’s plan was basic brawn. He was bigger and stronger, inside and out. Two big, powerful gulps…three tops, and that beer would be gone. And as the music blared, he readied his throat for the first big gulp.

 

Over to Sonya. We’ve all tried to out-chug someone in our lifetime and I’m sure, like all of us, Sonya was peering at Mongo through the corner of her eye as he took the second and apparent final gulp.

 

But we need to realize something here. Sonya didn’t have 30 plus wins because of a powerful gulp, but from a simple relaxed opening of her throat which she gracefully poured the beer down, like water down a drain.

 

And while she peered through the fuzzy bottom of that plastic cup, pouring the beer down her hatch, she watched Mongo the best she could. Here’s what Sonya saw, as she was about two-thirds finished: Mongo pulled his cup away from his face, and Sonya assumed she’d been beaten. Why else would he pull the cup away?

 

But everyone else with an unobstructed view of Mongo saw what actually happened. He had miscalculated. He had tried to drink the beer in two swallows and the second proved to be too large and some of the beer -- as he pulled the cup away -- had gone back into the cup rather than down his throat. Mongo put his cup down to catch it. This is exactly what we saw.

 

Sonya however just saw the motion of him putting his cup down and -- as she was still finishing her beer – and assumed she had finished too late, as she heard cheers. She felt betrayed by her loyal fans, who had for so long supported her, and who now suddenly appeared to turn against her.

 

So as she finished her beer, she hurled the cup against the back wall of the stage. And only then did she look over and see Mongo, frozen, holding his still unfinished beer, and then she realized the crowd has been shrieking for her. And looking back now I can honestly say that the crowd, upon seeing her spike that cup, gave the loudest applause we ever got at Quizzo. David had taken down Goliath.

 

The Birthday Breathalyzer

 

In the end, Quizzo -- like comedy -- is show business. The then Kate’s manager (and our boss) never failed to remind us of two things, 1) That we were a Tuesday morning number. The number being the sales ring from the previous night…the higher the number, the better the show, and, 2) “I could always get two other yo-yo’s to do this for half the price.” (It was actually the fact that he called us “yo-yo’s” that endeared him to us so.) So, in order to achieve the former and prevent the latter, we had one purpose: selling booze.

 

So, when in December of 2004 my brother got me a pocket breathalyzer for my birthday, a new event was born.

 

People were always coming into Quizzo for their 21st birthdays -- it was, in fact, how we met Quizzo Sonya -- and of course the birthday boys or girls brought all of their friends. And good friends get you ripped on your 21st. So, when two or more groups came in celebrating this milestone event, we pitted the tables against each other using the 21-year-old liver as a divining rod.

 

The game ran throughout the night (as opposed to the wheel games, that were run between rounds), and was simple. Each table got their birthday boy or girl drunk, and whoever blew the higher number on the breathalyzer at night’s end won. Won what? What else, a round of shots. The winners never really got to enjoy the shots; for them, they were the equivalent of shooting bullets into a cadaver. But oh, the stories the table would relate to their buddies when they came to, days later.

 

There were some rules, of course. No one at the table was allowed to be driving, and if the birthday blower blew chunks they were DQ’d and would have to clean up their own mess.

 

If you were at the shows, you probably remember people would come in drunk on their 21st birthdays, screaming, “Give me the breathalyzer!” I dare say that Dan and I may be the only people to have ever had those words spoken to them.

 

Needless to say, we could have done this every week, but when some overachiever blew as hard as he could in to the breathalyzer only to spew a liquor cabinet onto the floor in front of him, the staff asked us to retire the game.

 

By the way, to answer your question, 0.22 was the highest ever blown. And no, the guy did not throw up. But I believe most of his internal organs had shut down by that point.

 

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