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Guppy Parsh · (09-05-2014)

~Act I~

“I’ll have a supreme with pineapple,”

MEANWHILE…in a Domino’s Pizza,

“Okay, now load the supreme with pineapple pizzas into the bag one at a time.”

CRASH!

“What was that?”

“It’s coming from the back, boss; I’ll go ask Johnson.”

“Tell Johnson to SUCK MY FUCKING DICK. Keep putting those damn pizzas in the bag, one at a time. I’ll ask Johnson.”

“Can you save me the trouble of telling him to suck your dick and do that while you’re asking him?”

“That’s your last favor, boy.”

Calvin drew his knife and walked into the kitchen. Finch began to load the supreme with pineapple pizzas into the bag three at a time.

~Act II~

“Johnson?” Calvin called. No answer. Maybe he was being drowned out the sound of all those pizzas being put into the bag at a faster rate than recommended.

CREEK!

The backdoor opened by itself! Calvin walked out into the alley. “Johnson?” Calvin opened a dumpster and looked inside.

A sudden sense of urgency overcame Calvin. Something about this dumpster was special. It was a feeling in his heart. The trash moved at a demonic pace. It was forty degrees Fahrenheit on the moderate night of sin. There was no sign of Johnson still.

“Finch! Get out here forget the pizzas!” Calvin waited a moment, but there was no sign of Finch either. “Finch, I’m the one calling the shots tonight! Get the fuck out here!” shouted Calvin, but the air might have been too thick for sound to pass through it.

I must be going fucking nuts here.

THE WIND!

“What was that?”

“I THINK it was the wind.”

POW!

~Act III~

“Calvin?” shouted Finch, “I got all the pizzas in the bag like you said, boss.”

“GALVIN doesn’t NEED pizza," the voice was alluring like a stereo, “DEAD men no EAT pizza, French.”

“Who’s Galvin? Who’s French? Where’s Johnson? WHO ARE YOU?”

“Your worst nightmare, BINCH,” the voice had seen all of Finch's nightmares and determined that he was objectively more evil than all of them.

Finch took a step backward as the lights began to wickedly flicker.

“Hey, man, were just going to have a really awesome pizza party. Domino’s can make more pizzas! They aren’t going to miss these, man.”

The lights shut off. Finch couldn’t see anything, nothing at all, except for a faint yellow glow about eighteen feet away. Finch turned to run, but immediately tripped over the bag of supreme with pineapple pizzas. The yellow light just kept getting closer until it engulfed Finch and swallowed him whole.

~Act IV~

Officer Ramirez finished lining the crime scene with yellow tape, when Lieutenant Chang finally arrived, late as usual.

“What happened here?”

“Some kind of break-in, they took about sixty pizzas,” croaked Ramirez, “And we found this,” Ramirez gestured to a birdcage.

Lieutenant Chang knelt down to give it a closer look.

“A finch?”

“That’s not all; follow me into the back.”

Chang nervously limped after Ramirez. Chang only had one good leg ever since the war, but he didn’t get this job because he was good at chasing people. The last Japanese lieutenant retired and Chang interviewed and tested better than all the other Japanese sergeants to become his replacement. Pseudo-diversity was a very important concept to the great city of Gotham.

“Ramirez, why is there a dead horse in the alleyway behind the Domino’s Pizza?”

“That’s Calvin. He’s an American Thoroughbred racehorse.”

“Oh,” Lieutenant Chang pointed at the headstone that sat next to the horse, “It says there that he won the 1875 Belmont Stakes.”

“Yeah,” Ramirez gestured to his iPhone 4S, “He also had two other big race victories. When he was two he won the 1874 Joly Stakes.”

“Tap the Joly Stakes hyperlink.”

Ramirez did as ordered, but as the page loaded he became dissatisfied, “Wikipedia does not have an article with this exact name.”

“Shit!” Chang kicked the dumpster in frustration; the contents of the dumpster rattled wickedly, “There goes our only fucking lead.”

Ramirez was bewildered. He put his ear to the dumpster.

“That didn’t sound like a normal dumpster,” in college Officer Ramirez studied dumpsters for his waste management class, “Normal dumpsters rattle sadistically,”

“It’s all trash.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I wrote a paper about this,”

“What grade did you get?”

“That’s not important. My professor was always ranting about dumpsters. She hated them. She had a bias.”

“Whatever, it’s just a dead horse, a weird dumpster, and a fucking finch. That’s all we have. It’s another unsolved mystery.”

“Hold on, kick it again.”

Chang kicked the dumpster. The contents of the dumpster rattled sadistically. “Sounds normal to me, Ramirez.”

“I think it’s on to us. It knows that I know it rattled abnormally. Chang, we need to take this dumpster into the lab. It must’ve killed this horse somehow and stolen the pizzas.”

“How can a dumpster kill a man, Ramirez? That’s fucking stupid.”

“In 1998 my father died the same way. He died next to a dumpster outside of a pizza parlor. That’s why I got a doctorate in waste management, Chang. I had to figure out what happened to my dad,” Dr. Ramirez turned away and stared at the brick wall.

“I told you sixteen years ago and I’ll tell you today, your father got taken down by a drunk driver who just kept driving all the way into Gotham Lake. The man who killed your father is dead. It has nothing to do with the dumpster he bled out next to.”

“The dumpster he died next to rattled wrong, Chang. You took on that case. Why didn’t you take the fucking dumpster back to the lab?”

“I’d never suspect a dumpster of killing someone. I’m not bat shit fucking crazy.”

“I’m sorry for thinking outside the box, ‘Lieutenant’ Chang. Nothing about that dumpster seemed strange to you?”

“Nope, it was a perfectly normal dumpster then and it’s a perfectly normal dumpster now.”

“So, you can’t drive, you can barely walk, and now you can’t fuckin’ hear. Aren’t you supposed to be perceptive to be a cop? How did you even graduate the academy? Was that because of racial diversity too? You’re not even Japanese. I looked up ‘Chang’ on Wikipedia, that’s a Chinese name.”

“Japan and China are the same, Ramirez. I took Geography in high school.”

“You’re lucky there is so many straight white males on the force, Chang. If the higher ups looked for natural diversity instead of artificial diversity I’d outrank you. I’d have your fancy car, your hot wife, and I’d take this motherfucking dumpster back to the lab.”

“It’s just trash, Officer Ramirez.”

“You’re a cop. We need to put this dumpster under a microscope looking at it at the macroscopic level does nothing.”

“Fuck that. Let’s just look inside the damn dumpster. It’s probably something in there that made it rattle weird,” in a single swift motion Lieutenant Chang opened the dumpster.

BTTTOOOM!

~Act V~

MEANWHILE…in the parking lot of another Domino’s Pizza where a FEW-R wrestling event is taking place,

“Supreme has the pineapple! OH MYYYY GOD!”

“HE’S RUBBING IT on that guy’s face!”

“I think I’m going to BE SICK.”

“This is so FUCKING EXTREME”

“DEADEXPLOSION HAS NO CHOICE but to tap out!”

Winner AND NEW Fucking Extreme Wrestling ROCKS Pineapple On A Pole Conglomerate Champion: Supreme

Supreme posed with the Pineapple On A Pole Conglomerate title. There were even tears of joy in his eyes. The sun began to set over the extreme parking lot as the fans cleared out and Deadexplosion lied in puddle of his own blood. Supreme kissed the belt, strangely it tasted like the pole it hung on.

“That belt IS GAY,” the voice was cold air on a plane, “if you kiss something gay that MAKES u a

.”

Supreme just smiled. He was too extreme to be taken in by such talk. Supreme knew he could fuck any chick he wanted. One time he fucked four chicks in the same night. They were all hot and they were all in different metal bands. A different time he banged three cheerleaders for the Miami Dolphins in three consecutive weeks. His extreme cock was given to him for a reason. He was the adopted son of two gods. They forced him to become the man they could never be.

All the reminiscing made him forget about the strange voice calling from thin air.

The voice, however, was not taken in by Supreme’s conquests. The voice had an evil plan so destructive and murderous that all the rats in the world ate their cheese in fear. The voice was hungry for die.

A beam of light engulfed the FEW-R Pineapple On A Pole Conglomerate Champion and his championship title. Supreme disappeared and a box replaced him.

~Act VI~

“I’m sorry sir, we don’t have pineapple here.”

“Then how do you make a Hawaiian pizza?”

“We don’t make that pizza here.”

“Well that’s bullshit. Do you fucking hate Hawaii or something? My aunt lives there you fucking cunt.”

Sally just shrugged. She was a woman in the world of misogyny. This was just one of the countless times she would be tortured by the patriarchy today. 'Cunt' was a gendered term and it hurt her feelings when people used it. Sally decided to save her strong, independent words for her blog later tonight. In the man-dominated pizza industry she could lose her job for speaking of equality. Some may consider this a pusillanimous act, but Sally knew ignoring it for now would keep her children fed.

“No, we love Hawaii we just-.”

“Don’t respect them enough to serve Hawaiian pizzas. I get it. You’re all bigots. Now because of you the greatest RTX Champion of all time is going to starve tonight and our promo will be shitty.”

“You could always get a different pizza.”

“Then I’d be giving a bigot money. I think all people should be respected no matter what United State of America they’re from. I am sick of my Hawaiian brothers and sisters being treated like animals by your establishment. I’m going to Domino’s pizza instead.”

Stevil sadistically turned away from the register of disgust and unceremoniously escaped the restaurant of xenophobia.

“Thank you, come again.”

Guppy fin.

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