The smell of hot sauce hung heavy in the air as students packed the Black Box theater on April 30, 2025, buzzing with anticipation.
They were there to watch their teachers sweat, laugh, and even cry as they took on the “Hot Ones” Challenge—a live event where each round of wings got progressively spicier according to the Scoville scale, which measures the spiciness of peppers and chili-based products, ranging from 100 to 2,200,000. As the heat intensified, so did the questions, becoming more personal and pushing participants to their limits. The event raised $550 for general school funds, which will be used for student activities.
Many found their way into the theater through the generosity of their friends. “I’m not actually; I got a friend to pay for it,” said freshman Alika Ryan, 14, from Manhattan. “I’m paying because I love Alika and support them, and they want to see their biology teacher suffer,” added Matt Southward, 14, from Brooklyn, when asked why they were paying the $5 fee to enter the fundraiser.
For some students, the event was a way to get revenge on their teachers or to see them outside of their professional demeanor, offering a moment of connection beyond the normal school day. But for the teachers, the experience was less than enjoyable, as some were guilted into the event by their students.
“Well, my senior cartoonist student Max Ramos asked me to participate. Originally, Mr. Brandon Scaglione was going to participate, but he bowed out at the last minute, or should I say, chickened out,” said Mr. Casey Roonan, one of eight participants.
In reality, Scaglione had a reason not to attend. “I had to go home and take care of my dog; I couldn’t stay the whole time.”
The first few rounds were mild in terms of reactions, with teachers staying composed. “My grandpa let me drive when I was nine,” Mr. Christean Cross said during the opening personal trivia questions.
But by the fourth wing, at 36,000 Scoville units, things started heating up. Mr. Cross shared that his nightmare job is a desk job, and students began catching signs of discomfort, such as sweating, a few coughs, and even some tears from Roonan.
The fifth and sixth sauces pushed limits. Ms. Lew had to drink milk, a temporary reliever for the heat, while Mr. Cross started eating with caution. Even the ever-confident Principal Maximillian Re-Sugiura, who had been mocking the sauces, started to show cracks. The principal began sweating and was subsequently called out by the announcers.
When the seventh wing hit—clocking in at over 100,000 Scoville units—Roonan needed an emotional support stuffed animal from the announcers and held it to his chest. Meanwhile, confessions like “My celebrity crush is Marisa Tomei” from Principal Re-Sugiura added some much-needed humor for the suffering contestants.
By the ninth wing, chaos erupted with cheers from the audience when Mr. Eric Guerron started crying, and Mr. Mac sang “Be Our Guest.” At that point, even students were impressed, with some giving standing ovations after he was done, as seen on the livestream.
But the tenth and final wing—2.5 million Scoville units—was the ultimate test. Somehow, every teacher crossed the finish line. “It tasted like ketchup,” the principal said, despite being drenched in sweat. “Where’s the heat at?” asked Mr. Cross, unfazed.
For students, the motivation was simple. “I wanna see Mr. Cross,” said Ethan. “He’s such a good teacher and so nice,” added Phoenix. “But have you ever met someone so nice that you want to see them crack?”
Another student put it bluntly: “Why not? I wanna see Mr. Roonan suffer.”
And guilt? “No,” everyone unanimously agreed, almost proudly.