Photo by Cesar Carlevarino Aragon
Three brave men took their seats in front of 12 Honey Buns and one cup of water each. Close by was a triple-lined garbage can, just in case. Competitors and audience felt the tension and excitement as the inaugural 2026 Honey Bun Eating Challenge at Washington Corrections Center/Cedar Hall/C and D tier was about to begin.
After several other community activities on the tier—Secret Santa during the holidays and a Super Bowl party—a couple of guys decided they wanted to keep the positive energy going. Chris began to brainstorm challenges that would be easy to put together and draw a crowd. When the Honey Bun Challenge idea came up, Denzil, aka Trip, jumped on board.
It took Chris and Trip three weeks to recruit the three competitors, iron out the rules, and raise money for the Honey Buns and the $30 of commissary items in a prize bag. The rules were simple: The contestant who could eat 12 Honey Bun pastries fastest, in under 20 minutes, and keep them down for an hour, would win bragging rights and the prizes.
Competitive eating—most famously, pie or hot dog eating contests—date back to the late 19th century. Challenges like these have been the catalyst of many iconic pop culture moments. How many kids have been double-dog-dared into sticking their tongues on a frozen pole, a la “A Christmas Story”? Or tried to go beyond Cool Hand Luke’s number of boiled eggs eaten? Absurd challenges make us laugh and bring us together.
Today, challenge culture is all over TikTok and other social media. People are creating videos that showcase a talent such as dancing or a willingness to do risky stunts—from cold-water plunges to hot-pepper eating challenges. Reality TV shows such as “Fear Factor” and “Survivor” have for decades pitted contestants against each and tested their limits.
Back on the tier, the three competitors sat waiting for the competition to start, feeding off the energy of the growing crowd as prisoners laughed, playfully trash-talked, and made a variety of bets: Who would finish? Who would tap first? Who would throw up? The competitors responded to the wisecracks, each expressing confidence in their predictions of triumph.
Mark, the oldest at 58 and the underdog, had never competed in an eating challenge but said he had a tenacious competitive spirit. Thomas, 46, was the favorite because of his experience, including a Honey Bun challenge in which he polished off 10 pastries in 30 minutes. A.Z., the youngest at 36, was a first-time competitor but said his youthful energy and appetite would carry him to victory.
To create a party atmosphere, Trip had a batch of popcorn balls made for the spectators. As the crown mingled and grabbed the snacks, the referee emerged from his cell, drawing laughs and cheers for his state-issued gray T-shirt with Sharpie-drawn referee stripes and “Big Daddy D, Referee” on his back. With the seriousness of officiating a world championship fight, he explained the rules and started the timer. The crowd quieted at the crinkling of the first wrappers coming off.
The contestants started slowly, taking modest bites, as they sized each other up like poker players, looking for a tell or sign of weakness and working to conceal their own. The first few Honey Buns went down relatively easily, and the crowd went back to cheering and commenting on the comical intensity of Big Daddy D, who worked his way around the table, crouched at face level of the contestants, evaluating the contents of their wrappers and status of any crumbs that may have fallen to the table. A dog trainer by trade, Big Daddy D, ironically, resembled a pooch circling a table at a barbecue, waiting for his opportunity to pounce on any crumb that falls from the spread.
As pastries three, four, and five went down easily, I stepped back to take it all in. Half of the 60 guys on the tier were there and having fun, along with some of the correctional officers, who kept coming in to check on the competition, giggling as they passed through. Men on other tiers had heard about it and were gathering at the windows to watch. Everyone was smiling, laughing, and joking.
Why was the challenge so popular? Sure, these contests are silly and even absurd, but we humans are social creatures. People need connection and community, and prisoners are no different. That day, we came together as a community despite our differing backgrounds and affiliations, setting aside ideologies and beliefs, laughing and cheering together.
Back to the competition: Things shifted dramatically at the sixth Honey Bun. Frontrunner Thomas picked up number seven, looked at it and then over to his opponents. He put down the pastry and gave the hand signal. “I’m out,” he said, leaving the crowd stunned.
Triumphant cheers and groans of disappointment arose, depending on the bets people had made. With a dramatic flourish, Big Daddy D motioned for him to leave the table. Thomas said he knew he was not going to finish at number four but pushed on to make sure. After six, he said he felt the kind of full you feel after a Thanksgiving feast.
A.Z.’s eyes began to glaze over at Honey Bun eight, his pace slowing as he hesitated with each bite. Mark was at seven but eating at a steady pace. The men continued to cheer for their favorites. At the first bite of number nine, A.Z. said the sugar high was so intense that he felt it everywhere in his body and wondered if that was what diabetes felt like. By the end of Honey Bun nine, he threw in the towel. Big Daddy D, with all the flair of an umpire at home plate during the World Series, called him out.
The contest was now Mark against the 20-minute clock. By number nine, he said, he was actively battling his gag reflex and had almost lost the fight twice. He was about to call it quits, sure he couldn’t beat the clock, but the organizers decided he could still be the winner and claim his prize. That’s when Mark rallied. With Big Daddy D hovering and the crowd cheering “Mark!, Mark!, Mark!” he opened Honey Bun 10. The men roared and someone on the tier blasted “Eye of the Tiger,” the theme song from the 1982 film “Rocky III.”
Mark opened the final pastry with hesitation. His pace had slowed and each bite looked as if it could be his last, but his competitive nature pushed him on. Facing the last bite, Mark hesitated, then burped and leaned over. The crowd gasped and stepped back, fearing the worst, but Mark held up his hand to reassure them he was OK. With one last deep breath, a glance up to God, and a decisive bite, Mark devoured the last bit of Honey Bun. The crowd erupted, men high-fiving and fist-bumping, but Big Daddy D held up his hands, reminding everyone he would make the final call. He crouched down as Mark lifted his head to show him his mouth and tongue. It was all gone, and Big Daddy D raised Marks hand and declared him the winner. As the crowd cheered, Mark lay down on the floor, exhausted.
After it was over, I asked the participants about their motivations. All agreed that the main goal was just to have fun. Mark said he loves the chaos of such events, like watching a train wreck in slow motion and not knowing what is going to happen. A.Z. noted that during the competition he saw guys on the tier who rarely leave their cells but had come out to cheer him on. Thomas said such events are a break from what can be mundane routines, bringing people together as a community. Life felt normal for a minute, Thomas said, having fun in a way that can happen anywhere.
Events such as the Olympics are said to bring a country together, and our competition was no different. Our Honey Bun Eating Challenge was something of an Everyman’s Olympics. It didn’t take the same skill or practice as downhill slalom or the high jump, but it brought our tier together and made memories nonetheless. In the future, we likely won’t remember much about the 2026 Winter Olympics, but everyone on our tier will remember how much fun we had the day that Mark ate 12 Honey Buns.
