Benjamin Fenderson vs Himalayan Hamson

The burly man walked up to Benjamin and said: "I know you. You're the Big Man Anchovy Perspiration Tactic. I want to see who's better at making anchovies!"

"Alright, relax, relax. Where will we do this?"

"Over here," he said, pointing at the floor next to the deli with his mother staring at him with wide eyes and a red pan.

"Alright, where are the anchovies?" Benjamin asked before the man handed him three anchovies.

The round started at four o'clock, on the dot. Ben hadn't said it before, but he noticed this man as the thirty-two-year-old man, Himalayan Hamson, who was known as Red Anchovy Guy. He made such good anchovies that they turned bright, glowing red when he was finished making them. Ben didn't know how to compete, so he had to make a new recipe on the spot. They started their own campfires on the floor and had eight minutes before the fat security guards would come to stop them.

Benjamin was watching his opponent's anchovies crackling on the pan. He saw him sprinkle salt, pepper, dill weed, and other ingredients on his anchovies. This was time for Ben to fight back with his new made-up recipe.

Ben started sprinkling dill weed, Tony's, salt, pepper, and a few pepperonis on his anchovies. He was going to make the best anchovies. He cut up bell peppers so much that they turned to fragrant dust, and he sprinkled them on. It was his secret flavor recipe he made up in his head a minute before.

Benjamin's opponent looked at Ben with fearful eyes. Himalayan Hamson didn't think he would win. At the six-minute mark, he smelled his fish burning. The anchovies must've stayed on the pan too long. He quickly flipped them and added a teaspoon of salsa verde. It started to smell great.

Ben decided then to cook his anchovies a minute longer before adding his secret flavorful salsa of greatness on his anchovies. There was only a minute left. They took their anchovies off their plates and handed them to Himalayan Hamson's mom.

Himalayan Hamson's mom took a look at both of their anchovies and whiffed them. She thought her son's smelled nicer. Then she took a bite of her son's first anchovy. It tasted wonderful. It reminded her of her old days, swinging on swings at the park with her mother watching distastefully. She ate with a passion. She then looked at Ben's anchovies and decided that they weren't worth the time or the effort. That was when Ben shoved an anchovy in her mouth. This broke her down in tears. Not because of him forcefully making her eat an anchovy, but because it was the best anchovy she'd ever tasted. She beat her son to death for not making the best anchovies and went back to the deli to take the frozen chicken tenders out of the oven.

The Walmart security got there, but Ben was already gone. He was satisfied, and the security carried Red Anchovy Guy's dead body outside and threw it on the ground. They then cut it up with a chainsaw. There was no doubt in Benjamin Fenderson's mind had this been the best day he'd ever had in his entire life. From then on, Benjamin Fenderson had been known as the dude on the street's first-hand anchovy guy who saw the man on the moon.