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Mama Mia!
WELL. The other day I was finishing work at Tee pees and
Escapades when hunger struck. I figured I might as well swing by Naples pizza, fortunately it was right next door, all I had to do was cross the street. The small bell over the door rang as I entered but immediately I had a strange feeling, as if I had walked into a bad scene. It was as if everything was in slow motion. The freaked out Italian guy behind the counter, the hunched figure standing on the other side. And before I could say Nosferatu was a thinly veiled uncopyrighted version of the story of Dracula the figure turned around and stared at us. The waxed mustache, the scowling gray brows and the portly tummy all moved as the smiling fiend announced to us all what he had just announced to Don Enrico at the front counter. “I am here to consume all of the pizza here, WITHOUT PAYING!” He cackled and jumped up and down deviously. It felt as if I had just digested a chunk of lead. It sank to my stomach and it felt as if the floor was ready to drop out from below me, how co
uld this happen? The confused spectators looked on, not moving an inch. Don Enrico quivered with fear of this man. “My name is G. George Fatts the third!” He announced. “Surrender your pizza's now or I will emit foul smelling fumes from my posterior.” I must say I blinked at that comment, a lot, that was just really gross, and also really juvenile. The fart joke really is a lame trump card but a trump is a trump, I felt so defeated. I turned for the door, an idea in my head. “You, boy with the curl, stop.” He said to me. “All will witness my awful binge.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Listen G. George, I need to head to the library, I will return shortly, then you can start your binging.” He looked concerned as he replied. “And let the pizza grow cold?” “Pizza oven dude.” I answered as I headed to the library as quickly as I could. I scanned the card catalog looking for the right book, the were probably small putti guiding me in that moment of crisis.
I'm no professional dietitian but perhaps my plan could work anyway. I returned to Naples, book in hand. I walked right up to G. George and handed him a copy of Taking Care of my Body: A book on Healthy Eating. He cracked open the pages suspiciously and was immediately engaged by it's wisdom. “What was I thinking!” He sobbed, “Not only is eating all of the pizza not possible but it would be harmful to my body, violating the principals of good physical health!” He snapped the book shut and ran off weeping, I guess that made me the hero, but not in the eyes of the librarian for you see, G. George ran off with my book while he was crying and as a result I have an impending LATE FEE unless I get the book back!
Escapades when hunger struck. I figured I might as well swing by Naples pizza, fortunately it was right next door, all I had to do was cross the street. The small bell over the door rang as I entered but immediately I had a strange feeling, as if I had walked into a bad scene. It was as if everything was in slow motion. The freaked out Italian guy behind the counter, the hunched figure standing on the other side. And before I could say Nosferatu was a thinly veiled uncopyrighted version of the story of Dracula the figure turned around and stared at us. The waxed mustache, the scowling gray brows and the portly tummy all moved as the smiling fiend announced to us all what he had just announced to Don Enrico at the front counter. “I am here to consume all of the pizza here, WITHOUT PAYING!” He cackled and jumped up and down deviously. It felt as if I had just digested a chunk of lead. It sank to my stomach and it felt as if the floor was ready to drop out from below me, how co
uld this happen? The confused spectators looked on, not moving an inch. Don Enrico quivered with fear of this man. “My name is G. George Fatts the third!” He announced. “Surrender your pizza's now or I will emit foul smelling fumes from my posterior.” I must say I blinked at that comment, a lot, that was just really gross, and also really juvenile. The fart joke really is a lame trump card but a trump is a trump, I felt so defeated. I turned for the door, an idea in my head. “You, boy with the curl, stop.” He said to me. “All will witness my awful binge.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Listen G. George, I need to head to the library, I will return shortly, then you can start your binging.” He looked concerned as he replied. “And let the pizza grow cold?” “Pizza oven dude.” I answered as I headed to the library as quickly as I could. I scanned the card catalog looking for the right book, the were probably small putti guiding me in that moment of crisis.
I'm no professional dietitian but perhaps my plan could work anyway. I returned to Naples, book in hand. I walked right up to G. George and handed him a copy of Taking Care of my Body: A book on Healthy Eating. He cracked open the pages suspiciously and was immediately engaged by it's wisdom. “What was I thinking!” He sobbed, “Not only is eating all of the pizza not possible but it would be harmful to my body, violating the principals of good physical health!” He snapped the book shut and ran off weeping, I guess that made me the hero, but not in the eyes of the librarian for you see, G. George ran off with my book while he was crying and as a result I have an impending LATE FEE unless I get the book back!
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