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For those who haven't seen the movie Cool Hand Luke , here's the deal: Paul Newman attempts to eat 50 hard-boiled eggs in an hour and succeeds, winning riches, admiration from his fellow prisoners, and complete digestive shutdown. Yesterday, Maxim assistant editor Steve Mazzucchi attempted to eat 50 sickeningly sweet Cadbury Creme Eggs. To be nice (and to delay the inevitable seizures by a couple hours), they gave Steve-O a full day to accomplish this feat, from 10:00 am until 6:00 pm. Gawker sent over special correspondent (and full disclosure: former Maxim intern) Noelle Hancock to make sure the contest was monitored for quality assurance. Diabetic comas galore, after the jump!

Upon my arrival at 4:30 pm, I m informed that once the office honey pot reached $700, Maxim intern Pat working for college credit Hourihan jumped in to play the part of the worthy opponent. The challenge: Eat 50 Cadbury Creme Eggs over eight hours — 4.3 pounds of candy, 500 grams of fat, and 9,500 calories of awesome. Staffers immediately start debating how much it would take for a Vogue editor to ingest this many calories. We finally agree on $400,000.

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Ever wanted to know what a broken man looks like? You're welcome!

Intern Pat is not in a good way. He is now on his 26th egg and, from the looks of things, even the pool from Cocoon will not cure what ails this man. I m sweating and shaking and can t sit still, he tells Gawker. Earlier, I tried chasing the eggs with pretzels and a steak sandwich and I think that s where I went wrong. His slightly crazed, glassy-eyed expression reminds me of the dude who went on the murder spree after downing a bunch of Twinkies. I immediately back the hell up.

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Nobody knows Easter better than Steve. Somewhere, David Zinczenko is weeping.

At this point, people start throwing dollar bills at Pat to encourage him to pull the trigger. He s like a vomit stripper now! notes assistant editor Scott Stein. Thought: If one of them pukes, will the other one succumb to sympathy purges, resulting in dueling vomiters? Cause that d be sweet, dude!

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"My body is rejecting life."

Steve, meanwhile, is on his 28th egg and looks like he s been hit with two big bags of WhatTheFuck. I didn t eat anything yesterday and was drinking tons of water last night in an effort to expand my stomach, but this definitely takes more than one day of training. The first 20 went down pretty easily, but after that . [breathing heavily] I don t even really like them, to tell you the truth! Hang in there, Steve! He is now the proverbial poster kitten hanging off a tree branch.

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Steve demonstrates what goes on at Conde Nast circa 2pm on a daily basis.

With 24 and 22 eggs to go, respectively, Pat and Steve abandon their endeavor. A bold effort. Clearly, there would be chest-ups all around if it weren t for their disgustingly distended stomachs. In the end, both are awarded $70 consolation cash, at least part of which is destined for Lennox Hill Hospital depending on whether Blue Cross Blue Shield covers hyperglycemic shock.

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Nobody wins here, people.

(Photos courtesy of Maxim assistant editor Jon Wilde)