"What's cookin' good lookin'?" Dough Boy asked his own reflection.
His voice went an octave lower as he responded, to himself, "Bacon, wanna strip?"
He then began to laugh, as loud as possible, it seemed. The sound echoed off the oven walls.
"Would you just shut the hell up?!" I yelled, almost bursting a blueberry. Dough Boy was just asking to have his toppings ripped off.
This boy had problems. PROBLEMZZZZZ.
Suddenly, I realized the scene outside the oven door, which had been lit up and bustling, was completely dark.
But the lights were never out... I thought
Unless...
Oh shit.
"Dough Boy!" I called out to him. "We have an issue on our crusts."
He stopped staring at his reflection and whirled around to face me, "What? Have the waiters come to admire my beauty? My magnificence? My-"
"No!" I shouted. "The restaurant closed you pie-hole!"
YOU ARE READING
The Life of Pie
RomanceYou should read this. No, seriously, you should; however, this story is only fit to be read by certain people. This story is just the right type for you if you... 1. Love pie 2. Hate pie or... 3. Want to marry pizza However, I happen to be engaged...
