I confess I killed the pizza-man. Not because he got my whole order wrong and forgot my can of Dr Pepper. It wasn't even because the chicken was like rubber. I killed the pizza-man, not because of his nationality or because he was scratching his behind whilst on the phone and preparing some other poor customer's meal. I confess I closed him down with a bellyful of buckshot. I confess I brought him face with his first salad, though it was full of maggots. He fell face down in a bowl of rotting veg, and the phone swung back and for against the wall... Clearly he'd made his last call. I confess I killed the pizza-man for the crude rude words he spluttered down the phone.
I confess I killed the fat, rude and disrespectful pizza-man. I confess to filling him with lead as I pumped the shotgun and unloaded it again and again. It had nothing to do with whether or not pineapple belongs on pizza nor that my pizza was cold, wet and three hours late.
I confess I killed the pizza-man. Not because he got my whole order wrong and forgot my can of Dr Pepper. It wasn't even because the chicken was like rubber. I killed the pizza-man, not because of his nationality or because he was scratching his behind whilst on the phone and preparing some other poor customer's meal. I confess I closed him down with a bellyful of buckshot. I confess I brought him face with his first salad, though it was full of maggots. He fell face down in a bowl of rotting veg, and the phone swung back and for against the wall... Clearly he'd made his last call. I confess I killed the pizza-man for the crude rude words he spluttered down the phone.
Sue Clayton
26/2/2022 03:30:04 am
Wow. Packed full of anger for the Pizza man. It always pays to be polite. Comments are closed.
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