I entered the unassuming eatery, that is attached to a gas station, with a myriad of tricks up my sleeve, including a dramatic digestive yoga maneuver that came in handy sometime just before the midway point and nearly made me hurl.

But by that time my sleeves were rolled up and I was flat out of trickery. Approaching the two and a half pound mark I began to sweat. Admittedly, I kept wiping my brow dry so not to let TJ Dennie (owner) notice I was crumbling in the grips of that enormous beast.

The texture was becoming too redundant and the extra lean burger was getting drier with each quarter pound I put away. And the long journey home, after grotesquely stuffing my intestines with four pounds of red meat, suddenly became grim reality. “Do I have enough time?” I asked Melanie. “No, I don’t think you’re going to make it.” She replied. "You've only got about ten minutes."

The race against time and images of the gastrointestinal disorders, which must certainly be a result of accomplishing such a disgusting feat were just too much for me to overcome. I threw in the towel after nearly consuming almost three pounds in fifty minutes. Notice, I did say consuming, I’m not certain when, or if, I’ll ever finish the digesting process.

Though, I do know one thing for certain, I will be back for a rematch...