My Aunt Floss makes a deadly chili sauce. She uses ghost peppers — the hot red ones she says are best, much more than just adding some delightful zest, as that hot chili flavor gets greater a few seconds later. Probing for conversation, wanting to know, I asked, “Where do the better Ghost Peppers grow?” They mostly come from India, Shree Lanka, and Bangladesh, but instead she just became conversationally enmeshed, by responding, “Somewhere near the afterglow from the hottest erupting volcano magma flows.” I thought to myself, “Here we go!” This wasn’t just her preconceived misconception, to a well-intended conversational question. [CHORUS] My aunt has a way of truth transgression with her own form of excessive comical self-expression. What she said next, I think, was correct, “They are many times hotter than most other peppers — what I call sweaters and stomach up-setters!” I then asked, “Can they kill you?” She suggested, “A few too many and you’ll wish it true.” “That’s food for thought,” I again inquired, “What makes them so hot, while other peppers are not?” She replied, “Some think it’s the substance called ‘capsaicin’ inside, but really ghost peppers are filled with tiny goblin sprites that haunt you later, in the bathroom… all night.” [CHORUS] My aunt has a way of truth transgression with her own form of excessive comical self-expression. “Yeah,” I confirmed what she said was right, “that’s just what ghost peppers are like! Still, much more extreme, is your chili and cheese hot dog supreme!” She then asked, “The one with, or without, sour cream?” [CHORUS] My aunt has a way of truth transgression with her own form of excessive comical self-expression. [CHORUS] My aunt has a way of truth transgression with her own form of excessive comical self-expression.
