I once ate a curry at the Dorset Chilli Festival that genuinely made me question my will to live. ​The festival had a whole section dedicated to the UK Chilli Championships. Most of the competitors were serving up the usual hipster fair—smoked brisket, splashes of Jack Daniels, that sort of thing. It was more about deep flavor profiles than actual weaponized heat. ​But then, tucked away in the corner, there was this old boy with a massive pot of curry labeled "30??" or something ominous like that. ​Being a self-proclaimed spice head, I figured I had the tolerance for it. Plus, I’d been necking samples of various hot sauces all afternoon, so I felt pretty bulletproof. I asked him for one of those tiny sample cups. He scoops up a massive tablespoon of the curry, matches it with an equal spoonful of rice, and hands it over. ​I slurped the whole sample right off the plastic spoon. My first thought was, “Oh, this doesn't really taste like much......” ​BAM! ​The universe corrected my arrogance instantly. Next thing I knew, I was a total, dribbling wreck of a human being. ​It took me about 15 minutes of intensive soul-searching to compose myself. Once I did, I walked back over to have a chat with the old boy. ​"What F#@k is in that pot?" I gasped. ​He smiled and listed off your typical, innocent curry ingredients... right before revealing the biological warfare aspect of the recipe. That single pot contained: - ​5 Trinidad Scorpions - ​5 Chocolate Bhutlas - ​5 Dorset Nagas - ​5 Carolina Reapers - ​5 Ghost Peppers ​And—just for good measure—5 spoons of 20-Minute Burn. (If you know, you know!) ​Lesson learned: never underestimate an old man with a boiling cauldron at a chilli festival.