I had to re-type this once already, please be considerate that I might have not caught all the grammar mistakes...

The call always comes in at seven thirty. Every night Devit takes the call in the most banal of tones

"Lucky-Panda may I please take your order?" And every night the same request.

"One large wonton and sweet and sour chicken." The familiar voice anxiously answered. "Delivery."

"It'll be an hour." Devit still felt the need to say how long it would take even if he did this every night he worked for the same customer for last six months.

"This is Devit right?" The voice asked. No it's another stupid teenager… Devit rolled his eyes.

"Yes it's me, why?" The phone went dead. Another rolled of his eyes.

"Who was that? A Co-worker who was cleaning off tables questioned.

"Who do you think?" Devit answered. "He even asked if it was me."

"Weird," She continued to clean off tables. "You know he once called here, ordered and everything, then when he found out you weren't delivering it, he wouldn't take it."

"Hmm, I bet management wasn't too happy about that?" Devit mocked.

"He paid for it but wouldn't take it, said he only wanted you to take his orders to him." She finished.

"Weirdo…" Devit expressed. "Why me?"

"Beats me, maybe he's a stalker?" "No, I don't think the guy leaves his house, last time I was over there he had trash bags right outside his front door." Devit explained.

"Maybe he has mental problems?"

"Maybe?" Devit joked. "Speaking of maybe; maybe you and I could go out this weekend? Lenalee."

"Eat dirt." Lenalee retorted as she handed over the take-out to Devit.

"Babe please, you know you want this!" Devit continued.

"Yeah, like how I want a cold sore."

Traffic was light that night what Devit estimated an hour of his time only took half. Driving up the riddled with empty houses neighborhood, that Devit's mind had acquainted to being on the correct street. Devit felt a chill go crawling up and down his spine like fake fingernails dancing across one's skin. He wasn't quite sure why tonight his skin wanted to leap off his body but a little voice in the back of his head kept screaming. Come on turn back! Who cares if you're fired, you don't make any money anyways! Don't' go up to that door! Turn around while you still can! I'm telling you don't-

The doorbell would ring twice, before the weirdo would answer.

"Come on man I don't have all night!" Devit uttered. There were some noises from inside the house before a pair of eyes were staring back at Devit though a slit in the front entry.

"Just leave the food on the porch I'll get it in a minute…" The voice from the phone call earlier requested.

"I need to get paid…" Devit stated.

"The moneys in the mailbox, keep the change." The voice muttered. Devit put the food right in front of the door.

"Right here?" Devit asked.

"Perfect, thanks…" The voice answered. Devit walked over to the mailbox and collected payment.

"Same time next Monday?" Devit bellowed. No response, either his question was not heard of simply ignored; nevertheless, both scenarios would've received an eye roll.

Afterwards, Devit hopped back into his car, and waited for this mysterious voice to show his face. Devit waited and waited, what's this guy's problem? Then Devit noticed a small door that dogs and cats use to enter and leave the house as they please, opened. This guy had seemed to make it into a door for transporting small items into his house, so he didn't have to leave.

"What a weirdo." Devit muttered before driving back to work.

Short and sweet, I wrote this during one of my late night sleep is for the weak! parties, where I write weird fanfictions that are way too short for anyone to read. Although I do hope you liked it, if I want to continue I will, but it's sort of a way for me to get back into writing before I start Nanowritmo next week, might use it if I run into any writers block this November.