Pizza Quest

Pizza Quest

A Story by アキスーテ (Akisute)
"

A short stupid story I wrote for the relief of both boredom and stress.

"

“What is your name?”

“Lisa.”

“What is your quest?”

“I'm just trying to order a pizza damnit.”

“What is your favourite colour?”

“What the hell does that have to do with my pizza?”


Three hours prior.


She sat there and then turning to me spake.

“You hungry yet?” Helen asked me.

“Yeah I guess I could eat something.”

“What do you want?”

“I kinda want Chinese food.”

“Wrong answer.” Her cellphone gravitated to my face with a loud POK.

“B***h!” I yelled.

“Order some pizza.”

And so with that I ordered the pizza and half an hour later (If it takes longer it's free!) a sixteen year old with a coating of sweat and grease arrived at our door.

“That'll be $16.59.” He said, as his scent began to burn my eyebrows.

Taking the pizza and slamming the door in his face I threw the box at my friend. It hit the side of her head with a satisfying POK. However when Helen opened the box she found nothing inside.

“Sunuvabitch!” I yelled.

I kicked the door off its hinges and it cascaded back sixty or so feet planting itself into the pizza boy's car. I followed the patch of ripped grass the door had created.

“Where the f**k is our pizza!”

“It wasn't in the box?”

“It was empty you smelly f**k!”

“Hang on let me call my manager.”

A few moments pass and he speaks with his boss for a bit before handing me the phone.

“Hello?” Quoth I. “What the hell is this crap? Where's my pizza?”

“Ma'am I'm sorry. I don't know how this happened. If you come down here we'll clear it up.”

“I'll be there.”

I hand the phone back to the greasy, putrid scented boy.

“I'm gonna grab my coat, don't you dare f****n' leave without me or I swear to god I will break your face!”

I reenter my abode grab my coat and stutter a few words to my friend as I leave.

You know those eery swivel chairs that villains in low budget films always have? Well the manager of the pizza place had one.

“Hello.” He said as he spun around revealing a dapper red and black suite, with a matching trilby hat, and a mustache that can only be described as evil. “How can I help you today young lady?”

“Uh. I just wanted my pizza. I called and when it showed up it was just an empty box.”

“I see. Are you sure the pizza didn't arrive properly.”

“Positive.”

“I think you're lying to me.”

“A*****e there was no pizza in the damn box!”

“Now what's with this language? I was of the understanding that we were having a civil conversation about your order.”

“Fine then. Sorry. But I really could use a refund, or a pizza, or something.”

“I'm afraid you have no evidence for your claim. There really is nothing that can be done.”

“What do you expect me to just order a new f****n' pizza?”

“No. No Mrs. Bond I expect you to die!” He began to press an ominous and large red button on his desk rapidly.

“What? That's not my last name.”

“Damn useless trapdoors! F**k it!”

And with that he pulled out a revolver and shot me in the face right as the trapdoor opened. My corpse fell like Alice down the rabbit hold, circling forever into a pit of insanity. Until it hit the bottom...at which point it stopped circling forever into a pit of insanity.

I sat up and began rubbing the back of my head, peering upwards towards the tiny slit of light that was the trapdoor. “What the hell?”

“I've been waiting for you.” A voice from the darkness.

“Who? Who are you?”

“I am the Ghost of Pizza Future.”

“Are you gonna make my pizza? And make me not dead?”

“Perhaps. But only if you are ready.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“You must pass the tests. Only then will Satan let you free.”

“Hell? I'm in Hell‽”

“Yes Lisa.”

“I always thought it'd be hotter.”

“Pass the three tests and ye shall be released from Hell.”

“I'm ready.” I jumped. “Throw your worst at me!”

“Prepare yourself for the first test. The line at the Department of Motor Vehicles!”

“That's it? That doesn't sound so bad.”

“BEGIN!”

Suddenly a sign pointing down with the words “Take a number” appeared. I reached for the ticket dispensing apparatus. I was number 1,246,987,532,458.

Looking up I saw the sign stated they were serving number 1,149,786,534,749.

“S**t.” I said to myself. “Hey! Pizza Future! Can I complete the second test while I wait on the first one?”

I received no answer.

“Hello! Somebody! Is there not another a*****e here in Hell‽”

Still I received no answer. I began to walk through the darkness. The number drifting before my eyes always, slowly moving upwards.

“Want some drugs?” Another voice from the darkness.

“Oh please yes! For the love of god yes!”

“Excellent. That'll be $16.59.”

“What? I don't have any money.”

“You don't?”

“No. Why the hell do they need money in Hell‽”

“F**K YOU!” With those words the darkness grew deep blood red and Satan's face materialized in the void before me.

“Yeah well f**k you b***h! I'll cut you!”

The rest of the time I spent waiting growing slowly more insane is of little interest. I found ways to pass the time as the minutes turned to hours, then days, weeks, years, decades, century, millennia. Mostly I spent this time yelling at the visage of Satan, and growing a beard...still not sure how that worked. But finally my number was called and I stepped forth into the office.

“Who are you?” Asked the lady.

“Lisa.”

“Why are you hear?”

“Why did you use the wrong here?” I asked.

“You have passed the first two tests.”

She clapped her hands and I found myself back in the void. I spun around looking in all directions finding nothing. I stroked my beard and began to walk. After some time in the void I heard a ringing noise. Then before me about a mile out I saw a yellow rotary phone. I walked to it the ringing slowly growing louder.

“Hello?” Quoth I as I picked up the receiver.

“Hey Lisa, it's Pizza Future.”

“Hey! How's it been! I haven't heard from you in a few thousand f****n' years!”

“Yeah. I was calling to let you know that an old man in a grey suite will be by in a few hours to give you the third test. Also it's only been like an hour on Earth.”

“Really? Man Hell time is...hell.”

“Yeah.”

Click.

Deciding I had nothing better to do I sat down where I was and awaited the old man in the grey suite.

Soon he was before me. I stood up and shook hands with him. And then a bridge emerged from the void behind him.

“Who would cross the Bridge of Death must answer me these questions three, ere the other side she see.”

“Okay.”

“What is your name?”
“Lisa.”

“What is your quest?”

“I'm just trying to order a pizza damnit.”

“What is your favourite colour?”

“What the hell does that have to do with my pizza?”

“I don't know.”

We stood there silent.

“So...can I cross now? Or whatever?”

“No.”

“Why the hell not‽”

And then Pizza Future appeared between me and the man in grey.

“Holy s**t! You came back!” I said.

“Yup. I finished your paperwork.”

“What?”

“The paperwork to give you a second chance.”

“I thought I had to pass three tests!”

“No. I just thought it'd give you something to do while you waited.”

“Goddamnit! I'm gonna kick your a*s you stupid son of a b***h!” But before I could strike at Pizza Future I began to float back up from whence I had come so many millennia ago.

Suddenly I was back in my home. I stood there with the door open and the greasy, putrid smelling pizza boy stood before me. I slammed the door in his face.

“F**k you Helen we're getting Chinese!”


Edit 4/20/14: Fixed typos.

© 2014 アキスーテ (Akisute)


Author's Note

アキスーテ (Akisute)
So yeah...that was a thing.

My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register




Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

305 Views
Added on December 3, 2013
Last Updated on April 20, 2014
Tags: pizza, hell, millennia, holy grail, insane, DMV, evil, stupid, monty python, Chinese food

Author

アキスーテ (Akisute)
アキスーテ (Akisute)

DogBollock, USA



About
"The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one admires it intensely. All art is quite useless." - Oscar Wilde So I've been infected with a disease. IHTWOID I Have To Write Or I'll Die... more..

Writing