PIZZA FACE: By Robert C. Eccles
Friday, February 19th, 2010Maxwell ordered six large pizzas with everything on them and polished off five of them before he was full. He picked up the sixth box and headed toward the kitchen to toss it in the trash. That’s when he heard the voice inside the box.
“Maxwell! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Maxwell nearly dropped the box. Instead, he set it down on the kitchen counter. He slowly lifted the top and peered in.
“Who said that?” Maxwell asked.
“It was me,” was the response from within the box.
Maxwell threw the top open. The items on the sixth pizza were arranged into a face. It had pepperoni for eyes and green pepper slices resembled a nose. Two rows of black olives formed the mouth. An anchovy between the green peppers and olives gave the impression of a mustache.
Maxwell shook his head.
“I must’ve eaten too much,” he said to the pizza face. “I thought you spoke to me.”
“I did speak to you,” said the pie. “You weren’t going to throw me away, were you?”
“Yes,” Maxwell answered, “I was. What of it?”
“You know,” lectured the pizza, its sliced onion eyebrows creased in a frown, “gluttony is a sin.”
“Fuck off,” said Maxwell.
“You are what you eat,” the pizza warned, “and it looks like you’re going to have to learn that the hard way.”
Maxwell slammed the box shut and shoved it into the trash can.
Maxwell went to sleep.
He woke up in the dark, the sound of children cheering and giggling nearby. A sliver of light appeared, quickly growing wider. He was looking up at a ring of children’s smiling faces.
Some of the children licked their lips. They looked hungry. He heard a woman’s voice.
“Now children, there’s plenty of pizza for everyone!”
The children reached into the box. Maxwell shrieked as he felt himself pulled away piece by piece.
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© 2010 Robert C. Eccles
