I have a buddy, Mike but we call him Bluto, that could kill a tall boy, 16 ounces, just as fast as the beer could flow. He would cut the bottom of the can off, raise it to his lips, then tilt and pop the tab at the same time. Beer just disappeared. Gone. Never heard him swallow. Bluto, what a guy.
Damn, that's a freaking pitcher. Hate to hear the burp.