fhjsk this is a dumb thing based on someone's rp and i totally forgot your url so if you could give it to me again that would be great? and uh yeah i don't think i'll be continuing this because like i said it is dumb but i hope you guys like it nontheless


Your name is Dave Strider and jesus fuck, you are tired. After three hours of nonstop deliveries thanks to the dinner rush, you were just about ready to collapse. Checking the clock, you figure 11 P.M. is a reasonable time to take a catnap. Only a complete idiot would need to order pizza this late on a Sunday.

As if to counter your thoughts, the telephone you were resting by starts to ring. You curse and move to check the caller ID in case it's Bro telling you to close up shop early for the night. Surprisingly, all you see is a flashing "Withheld".

"Welcome to DiStri's pizza delivery service. If it's not there in thirty minutes then tough shit," you grumble.

The voice on the other end chuckles a bit nervously. "Um, aren't you supposed to offer a free pizza or something if you can't get it here in half an hour?"

"What, no." What does he think you are, Dominos? "…I'll microwave it for you if it gets cold though."

"Oh, alright. That seems reasonable-ish," the voice scoffs.

"I thought so. Anyway, are you planning on ordering anything or are you just wasting my time?"

"Oh, right! Sorry," he says, "Anyway, I hope there isn't an ordering limit because I'm going to need like twenty pizzas."

"Twenty," you repeat for clarification.

"Mmmhmm."

Yeah, okay, you should've figured this was a joke. Like you said, there is no reason anybody would need to order a pizza this late, let alone twenty of them. You figure you'll humor the guy before hanging up on him.

"You realize we have like two ovens, right."

"Well, you'd better get started."

"Uh huh. So if you don't mind me asking, why the hell do you need so many pizzas?" you ask, absently twiddling the phone wire around your ring finger.

The voice sighs in mock exasperation. "Oh, you have no idea, dude. I'm hosting a corpse party and there are so many hungry pizza zombies. So many of them."

You smirk a little. Kid seems alright. "So twenty large pepperoni pizzas?"

"Yep!" he says cheerfully. "You'd better hurry though, I'm sort of scared they'll start eating my furniture."

"Sounds like my kind of party. But you know, if you really want to make it a fiesta you'd add sausage to them for like fifty cents a pizza."

"Sure, why not? Maybe it'll keep them from eating my couch."

"Do you want soda too?"

"You know what, that would be awesome."

"Breadsticks?" At this point you're just trying to keep the conversation going. This is fun and it's not like you'd be doing much else otherwise.

"Hmm, what do you think?"

"I think you should. What kind of party is it if you don't have breadsticks? Hint, a really lame one."

The kid laughs. An honest laugh, not like the little giggles you heard earlier. It was nice. "Okay, then let's get some breadsticks too."

"So," you pretend to think for a moment. "Twenty large pepperonis, a two liter of Pepsi, and breadsticks. That it?"

"Sausage," he reminds you.

"Oh, right. Thanks dude."

"Yep, no problem!"

"So that'll be $322.98. Sound about right?"

"Yeah, somewhere around there."

"Cool."

The call is silent for a minute or two. You're sort of afraid he'll hang up, because there's really no other place this joke is going. You fumble for something else to say.

"So who is this pizza going to?"

"Huh?"

"Like what's the name of the person paying? So it, um, goes to the right person and all."

You can almost hear him consider telling you something dumb like 'Zoosmell Pooplord' before he actually speaks up and says "John Egbert."

Egbert? What kind of last name is Egbert?

"Okay then, 'Egbert'. I'll probably need an address too, unless you want to come pick them up."

"Oh no, that's fine. Just bring them to the apartment complex on Fir Drive, I'll be waiting outside."

You really hope he will, because you wouldn't mind meeting some new people. To be honest you're not the most sociable guy alive, and the last person you talked to outside of business was your sister.

"Aight, I'll be there in about fifteen." You lift the phone from your ear and are about to hang up when—

"Wait!"

"What?" You sigh.

"Do you have a name? I need to know what to call you when you get here, silly."

"Don't need a name, just look for the dude in the shitty pizza guy uniform." If he seems like a decent guy, you'll tell him your name in person. There's still the possibility this is just some twelve year old pulling a stupid prank.

"There are a lot of shitty pizza uniform guys in the world," John reminds you.

"Then look for the attractive one."

"Hah, right. See you later then, nameless pizza dude."

"See you in a few, man. Or Egbert."

He laughs again before you hear the click of the receiver. You grin and get up to stretch before grabbing your bag and locking the door. Bro can deal with the shop closing up early, you think. You have plans tonight.