A thousand and five thoughts were whirring through his head, among the most logical, number seventy seven was a wondering about only having felt his heart beat three times in the twenty seconds previous. Number fourteen was less rational considering the cirumstances, ‘pepperoni or capricciosa?’
While trapped in the chamber of his satanic majesty, I once again wondered if the pizza delivery field had been a worthwhile choice.
Then they sounded the horn, the chains grew taut about my limbs and I was hoisted into the air for the sacrifice.
God is great!
So is pizza!