Today I ate a pizza. This was not an ordinary pizza. It was advertised as a pepperoni pizza and my expectations were just as innocent.
But alas, upon opening the cardboard enclosure, the 9.4 inch frozen mutant inside assaulted my gaze. Exactly half of the pizza was covered in pepperoni, and the other half lay bare, the uncovered cheese screaming out for some spicy, meaty clothing.
“So this is why you only cost three bucks.” I thought to myself, addressing the pizza directly as I knew that such a mutant would surely have telepathic powers. “This must be some sort of conspiracy to provide less pizza for less money.” I further thunk, considering the pizza’s pretentiously fancy branding. “Ristorante, ha, that must be some sort of marketing word for restaurant!” I continued, ever ignorant of the existence of other languages.
Reluctantly, I put the mutant in the pre-preheated oven and set it to ‘a cold day in hell’. Once ready, it was obvious that the cheese – ever so deliberately grated into the tiniest pieces – had been unprotected. Those bits not covered with delicious pepperoni were utterly brown; the consistency of the meal was entirely ruined. And so was my day.
Or so I thought.
Having sliced the pizza and brought it to my desk; the wonderful combination of dining table, workspace and funstation that it’s unwillingly forced to be, I was ready to eat. Expecting another el-cheapo cardboard experience, I grimaced and took a bite.
THE PIZZA WAS DELICIOUS.
Obviously whoever/whatever created this mutant redistributed the efforts that would have gone into covering the whole pizza in pepperoni, towards filling each ingredient with satisfying flavour.
Such incredible payoff for incredible risk!
I’ll be sure to buy more cheap crap in the future.