Cone’s true love, in fact, the reason for his very pseudo-existence, was ice cream. It was ice cream that filled him with joy on sticky summer evenings spent at Ted & Wally’s or Dairy Queen or any crummy gas station with a soft serve machine. It was ice cream that had kindly granted him the main ingredient in countless chocolate banana malts and kindly added somewhere between 6 and 8 pounds to his midsection.
What would happen to our bodies if we strapped ourselves into bioharnesses and watched our heart rate, respiration, body temperature and blood pressure as we ate 12 scoops of ice cream as quickly as possible?
Because there is only one answer to that question — let’s find out — Cone suggested that he could join the class and write about the process. He also had a second, unspoken motivation: He loved to show off his ice cream-eating prowess.
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