Top form, these two champs decide one day that they're going to each consume a 4.5 foot party sub. No time limits, no pressure from spectators, just the challenge itself. They've each blogged their experience, so click on their respective pics to read their story

From: http://www.theplug.net/2004.04/partysub.htm

One year ago Jason and I took part in a landmark food experiment called Mystery Can. To celebrate our willingness to be gluttons for punishment, Jason came up with an anniversary challenge. The premise is pretty simple. We each get identical party subs (the four and a half foot monster seen above), and we eat it until it's gone. It's not so much a race as it is a life lesson to never listen to Jason again. Now without further ado, Party Sub Challenge...

"I don’t know if 'scared' is the right word. That’s a four and a half foot sandwich. That’s a lot of food that I'm going to throw up."

"It’s a competition for me. It’s a competition of experiences. If I’m going to get through it, that’s huge. That’s seriously huge."

[CONTINUED(The Plug)] or [CONTINUED(Jason)]

My first bite. I get the feeling that the next few days are going to heavily involve picking up lettuce off of the floor.

I hope this is not an indication of things to come, but I could only eat a few inches of the sub before I was full. My initial estimate was that it would take three days to finish a four and a half foot party sub. But now I think I will be complete summer 2005. I honestly don't know if I can do this. I've only had one meal so far and I hated it. Just looking at the uneaten portion makes me lose my appetite.

Breakfast Sub.

You know, when the “sandwich artist” shows you the width of a party sub with his fingers, it means nothing until there’s a sandwich bigger than a parking meter staring you in the face.

Neither Jason nor I knew how wide the party subs would be. I feared the width would be abnormally large, hence why I recommended that we get three foot party subs. Jason claimed three feet wouldn’t last very long, and recommended that we each get six foot party subs. Our compromise (get out your calculators) was four and a half feet. Naturally, I am a sucker, because the width turned out to be abnormally large.

The sog factor has started to creep in. It's not nearly as bad as it's going to be tomorrow or the next day, but it's just enough for me to hate bread and cheese and vegetables. Thank God we had enough common sense to not get oil and vinegar.

Lunch. I ate a lot. A lot, a lot. (similar to Do you like her, like her?) I think it’s safe to say that I have less than four feet waiting for consumption. Jesus. In other news, a couple of co-workers said they liked the way my sandwich smelled because of the onions. Good thing, since I don’t plan on brushing my teeth afterwards. All week.

I am so into this suddenly. I just finished my dinner portion and have slightly more than three feet of party sub left. My refrigerator is infused with the unmistakable smell of sub. It's probably on my clothes and surely in my sweat.

Patti asked, "How's the sandwich?"

I told her it's best not to think about it. But if she must know, it's like the party sub and I had a water balloon fight.

Regardless, I managed to finish my first foot and a half segment of the S.S. Party Sub. Three feet to go. Three feet to go. I hope Jason has severe diarrhea.

I just ate a piece of sandwich that tasted like butterscotch. Normally, I’d say that’s gross, but right now, it’s welcome.

I wonder if I ever played M.A.S.H. as a kid and my fortune read that I would live in an apartment, have a pet dog, and eat sandwiches every day.

I’m on a never-ending teeter-totter of hunger and nausea. When I’m not eating the sub, I get really hungry. Pangs and all. When I am eating, it takes all my concentration to not think about how processed cheese turns to liquid.

There’s that butterscotch taste again… Do mayonnaise and mustard have a chemical reaction at room temperature?

To: jason@completesquare
From: jay@theplug
Date: March 3, 2004
Subject: Punch-wich

So.

By the time you read this, I will have eaten my stupid last bite of lunch. Which is perfect, because also by the time you read this, I'll almost be hungry enough for some dinner. I think I'll have some leftover party sub. Remaining length: 2 1/4 feet. Half way there.

Jay

P.S. Are you getting this weird butterscotch taste, too?

Congratulations to me for swallowing another miserable dinner. I never could have done it without my lettuce picker-upper.

I gave Jason the option to eat other food items alongside his sandwich. I’m not trying to say that Jason is a cheater, but that I’m more of a purist. The only thing I’m consuming aside from party sub is beverages. So this morning I poured a glass of orange juice and I swear it felt wrong, like it was some exotic cuisine from Morocco or something. That doesn’t make sense, I know. I just feel like if I wanted a beverage, then this challenge should dictate that I put a little water and some party sub in a blender and drink away.

Sadly, I’m probably a day away from not having to add the water.

My intestines feel thick, like I’ve been pouring concrete down there. I hoped that the sluggishness would have remedied itself by the time I woke up. However, the good news is that I am on my last sandwich loaf (foot and a half). I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, and it is filled with whiskey.

In the moments spent not eating, it all seems so easy. It’s like I can see the sandwich clinically cut into eight equivalent pieces. And those pieces are so small. They’re like nothing. How hard could it be to chew one of those tiny pieces every hour? Sadly, there’s not much chewing going on at this point. It’s really more like swishing.

Tip #5 (for those who might rush out and eat a party sub until it's gone):

It’s important not to paint yourself into a corner. Try to eat the mush alongside the not-so-mush. Otherwise, your last bites will look like this....

A chocolate candy bar sounds good. Sushi sounds really good. Guacamole and chips would be good, too. Salmon. Hash browns. Eggs over easy. Those would be good.

My yawns smell like pickles and olives. Plus, I’ve been burping a lot this morning, which was fun at first. It’s not fun anymore.

I have a history of being a prankster, especially when it comes to Jason. I have this horrible vision of payback, where Jason threw away his party sub and instead of choking on stink loaf, he's been eating lobster and gooey ice cream for lunch, followed by a sensible dinner. Oh, that imaginary Jason is going to get pranked back good.

Be warned, last bite. Ye who enters is doomed to never leave. -- And you be warned, too, Jay. Just because ye hears a foolish idea doesn't mean ye need to carry it out.

Aye, aye, captain.

While I didn't enjoy the fact that I ate a party sub for eighty-eight hours, it does show that I have patience. Like the time I watched a grandfather clock stop. Or the anticipated day when I stop talking about how I watched a grandfather clock stop.

Would I do it again? Probably. It being the grandfather clock thing, of course. As for the doing the party sub challenge again, I'd probably throw my portion in the garbage can and make Jason eat soggy sandwich for four days. Now, that idea makes me laugh myself to sleep.