The Pizza Weekend

I was cleaning out my Google Docs when I noticed this old doc from a few years ago called “Pizza for the Weekend: A tale of Horror” It was a short story that I started but never finished. This was based off an actual weekend in which Tia had gone to her family’s house and I was alone. Rather than buying groceries, I bought two large pizzas. I am not going to finish the story today but for your amusement I will post the outline I wrote. I thought it was kind of funny:

I arrive home and find the coupon for Papa John’s two for the price of one. Could it be a curse? Nah.
I put it off the first night opting instead for cereal.
Second night, I order the pizza.
The pizza arrives and is delicious.
Montage of me enjoying pizza for two more meals.
I begin to grow weary of the pizza. I force down the slices.
I run out of apple juice. My life has become pizza and water.
That night I dream. In the dream I am riding two elephants and hoping over a train. Behind me though, I am being chased by dancing pizza’s.
I wake up in a cold sweat.
I throw the pizza out.
Somehow it returns.
I give it to a homeless man. I find the homeless man dead and the pizza has returned to my kitchen.
I am visited by the ghost of Papa John, who tells me I have to finish the pizza to find piece. I get his pun and think it terrible.
I cry as I eat the last few slices. Forcing them down with water.
I throw the empty box out and order enough Chinese to last me a week. 


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