Straight Face

Straight Face. A face that can’t keep straight.

I made Straight Face in 2026 to show what I do — five hot sauces, mildest to hottest. It’s on no shelf, and nobody’s client.

The name is the game. Every label is the same face, and every face is trying. STRAIGHT above the eyes, FACE under the mouth, each letter brushed dead upright and dead level. Not even the name smiles.

I laid the label flat on its printer’s own file and drew the back as carefully as the front: what’s in it, the small print, even the barcode, which still scans.

It tastes first. Then it cracks. A little further each time.

• Mango & jalapeño, 4,000–8,500 Scoville units: a slow smile, a warm blush.
• Lime & serrano, 10,000–25,000: a hard pucker, one eye twitching.
• Smoked habanero, 100,000–350,000: a cool puff of smoke, sweat, brows climbing.
• Garlic & ghost pepper, about 1,000,000: a big chew, tears and a wail.

The last one goes all the way. Strawberry & Carolina Reaper, about 1,600,000: the same sweet smile, held a beat too long. Its eyes wide. A nick at the top. The tear running down. Torn through. Laughing.

Try to keep a straight face.