Burnt Wienie worthy: The cold facts about hot peppers

Nominee: Bill Miller
Nominator: "An impartial observer"
Year: 1974

On this early spring day, William Miller, raconteur, in-law, man about Old Frontenac-town and gardener, was inspired to plant among his tomatoes and carrots and cabbages a row of peppers, aiming to outdo another in-law whose talent for gardening excelled in the potato field.

William went to town and bought his Burpee seeds while Alfie stood sentinel over the spot in the garden destined for these championship peppers. They planted the peppers in what they considered a straight row.

Under the Frontenac sun and with Alfie to chase away rabbits and moles and gophers and stray porcupines, the pepper plants flourished until that day in August when William, sighing with satisfaction, thought, "Now I will enjoy the fruits of my labors."

While Alverna was sunbathing, he went into the garden, not to pick a peck of pickling peppers, but to make a lovely bell-pepper sandwich.

At his first bite of pepper on rye, William leaped into the air, saying, "Gott in Himmel! These are hot peppers!"

Thereupon, Alfie morosely scratched up the pepper plants, and if there was collusion, Alfie has remained silent to this day.