Marinara Trench

Pizza Steve dangled precariously over a pit of red.

"Gah! My hand's slipping, bro!" Pizza Steve cried desperately.

"Graah," Frankenstein said.

Pizza Steve's hands slipped free from Frankenstein's grip and he plummeted towards the ground.

Uncle Grandpa RV

"The Marianas Trench? How are we supposed to get there?" Mr. Gus asked.

"Yeah, the Marianas Trench? Pfft," Pizza Steve said confidently. "Pizza Steve! can totally handle that stupid ditch or whatever."

"It's at the bottom of the ocean!" Mr. Gus retorted. "We don't even have a way to get down there, nevermind withstand the immense water pressure!"

Giant Realistic Flying Tiger growled.

"Hey, that's right, Giant Realistic Flying Tiger," Mr. Gus said thoughtfully. "Uncle Grandpa did say the Marinara Trench. I thought he misspoke, but maybe..."

Pizza Steve began to sweat.

"Hey Pizza Steve!" Mr. Gus said. "You know a lot about Italian food. What do you know about the Marinara Trench?"

"Uh, what?" Pizza Steve said nervously. "There's uh, there's no such thing, man! Yeah, I'm pretty sure he meant that uh, that marijuana trench thing you were talking about. Yeah. That's it."

"Pizza Steve..." Mr. Gus said, a touch of warning coming into his voice.

Pizza Steve's crust slumped. "Alright, alright. So, the Marinara Trench is a real thing. But I swore I'd never go back there! Never!" He affected a nonchalant tone. "So I guess Uncle Grandpa is doomed. Oh well."

Giant Realistic Flying Tiger growled.

"Whoa, what?" Pizza Steve said, shocked.

"Mraah!" Frankenstein said, upset. Giant Realistic Flying Tiger growled back at him, and soon they were in a fight over who would get to eat Pizza Steve.

"Whoa, say what?" Pizza Steve said, shocked. "Is this really how you all think of me?"

"Well Uncle Grandpa did record a hit single about not eating you," Mr. Gus said.

Pizza Steve pushed his sunglasses back into his face.

"Fine," Pizza Steve said stoically. "I guess it's time that I show you how brave Pizza Steve can be, and take you all to the Marinara Trench. But don't say I didn't warn you!"

A Cheap Pizza Parlor

Twenty minutes later, Mr. Gus, Frankenstein, Giant Realistic Flying Tiger, and Pizza Steve were seated in a corner booth at a cheap pizza parlor.

"So why'd you take us here?" Mr. Gus asked.

"We'll need energy before we do anything," Pizza Steve told him. "Try the garlic twists; they're salty and fatty and greasy and surprisingly good."

Frankenstein got up to order. He walked over to the counter.

"Graah. Graah graah GRAAH mraah graah," he told the waiter.

The waiter punched the order into his machine. "Sure thing dude, that'll be $24.79, and it'll be ready in a couple of minutes."

"Graah," Frankenstein said, handing over the money. He got his change and walked back over to the table. Minutes later, the waiter walked over with plates of garlic twists for everyone. Everybody dug in except for Pizza Steve.

"Hey, what's wrong, little slice?" Mr. Gus asked. "You were right about these twists being good. So why aren't you eating?"

Pizza Steve sighed. "Look, I don't know how to tell you this, but there are some things that even Pizza Steve! is afraid of."

"No, we're all aware of that," Mr. Gus said.

"Graah," Frankenstein agreed.

Giant Realistic Flying Tiger growled her assent.

"Oh," Pizza Steve said. "Oh, well, sure, Mr. Gus," he continued, resuming his cocky attitude. "Heh. Yeah right. But the Marinara Trench is dangerous enough to scare even the bravest man. And that man is me, Pizza Steve!"

"Right...so where is this trench, anyway?" Mr. Gus asked.

Pizza Steve's sunglasses slid down his face. He stared out from behind them, shell shocked.

"It's in the back," he whispered.

"What?" Mr. Gus asked. "I didn't hear you, could you say that again?"

"It's in the back," Pizza Steve said, a little louder.

"Sorry, one more time?" Mr. Gus asked.

"It's in the back, okay?" Pizza Steve said, frustrated. "The Marinara Trench is in the back!"

Giant Realistic Flying Tiger growled.

"Okay, fine, whatever! We'll go, we'll go!" Pizza Steve said exasperatedly. He hopped off the table and made his way to the kitchen. After a bit of hesitation, the rest of the group followed him as he pushed the swinging doors open.

On the other side was a primordial hellscape. The ground was molten cheese intercut with rivers of tomato sauce. Pizza crusts floated on the surface, providing an area to walk over, but they were often surrounded by monsters made out of various pizza toppings. The quartet stopped in the doorway and watched as a pineapple monster began fighting with a creature made out of olives.

Pizza Steve shivered. "I swore I'd never go back..." he muttered to himself.

Frankenstein moaned.

"You're right, Frankenstein," Mr. Gus said. "We're doing this for Uncle Grandpa."

Pizza Steve chuckled nervously. "Now, guys, if you uh, if you want to just turn around and leave, we can, we can do that right now." He chuckled nervously again. "I uh, I won't like, judge you or anything, I uh, I completely understand if you just wanna uh, give up on this whole silly quest thing."

Mr. Gus looked at him angrily. "No way, little slice. We're in this until the end. Now where the heck's the Mariana Trench?"

"At the end of the kitchen," Pizza Steve muttered.

"Good. Giant Realistic Flying Tiger, think you can handle this for us?" Mr. Gus asked.

Giant Realistic Flying Tiger growled and allowed the rest of the group to climb onto her back. She flew over to the end of the hall, avoiding the attacks from the monsters, and landed on a crusty cliff overlooking a trench filled with marinara sauce.

"So uh, I should warn you, this is the uh, the worst part yet," Pizza Steve said. "We're going to have to climb down there. So uh, we can still turn around, and go home, you know, if anybody wants to chicken out." He giggled nervously. "Not that I want to or anything, nah, Pizza Steve is totally cool, but uh, if anybody else thinks this is crazy and we should just go home, uh, yeah." He chuckled nervously. "Because Pizza Steve is totally ready, but he doesn't want anybody to feel uncomfortable, you know, because–"

"Quit stalling and get down there!" Mr. Gus said angrily.

"Uh, alright," Pizza Steve said nervously. "We'll, uh, need to climb down. Together."

Mr. Gus grumbled but began climbing down. Frankenstein followed. Pizza Steve climbed down as well, but soon lost his grip on the side of the cliff. Frankenstein caught him.

"Oh, thanks, bro!" Pizza Steve said, relieved. "I can't bear to think of what might have happened if I fell off."

"Mraah," Frankenstein said happily. Suddenly, Pizza Steve began to slip off of his hand.

"Gah! My hand's slipping, bro!" Pizza Steve cried desperately.

"Graah," Frankenstein said.

Pizza Steve slipped off and fell towards the pit of marinara, screaming all the way.

"Oh, if only I wasn't so deliciously greasy!" Pizza Steve lamented.

"Pizza Steve!" Mr. Gus cried.

Pizza Steve landed in the marinara sauce with a thick wet plop. He laid there for a few seconds and then pushed himself up.

"Guh. I hate being covered in lukewarm marinara," he said.

"Wait," Mr. Gus said. "That sauce isn't even hot?"

Mr. Gus jumped down from the cliff and landed in the marinara. Not only was the sauce room temperature, it was also only ankle deep.

Mr. Gus sighed. "Let's just find what we need and get out of here."

"No worries, bro, I already got it," Pizza Steve said confidently, pulling a sauce-stained coupon for deep dish out of the marinara.

"WHAT?" Mr. Gus asked, agitated.

"It's great pizza, bro," Pizza Steve said. "I'm sure this is what Uncle Grandpa wanted me to get."

Above them, Frankenstein got a phone call. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and answered it, putting it on speakerphone.

"Graah?" he said into the phone.

"What? Who is this?" the voice on the other end asked, annoyed. "Do I have the right number?"

"Graah," Frankenstein said.

"Okay, is this a prank? Seriously?" the frustrated voice asked. "I swear, you do one kidnapping, and suddenly your whole life is thrown into disarray!"

"Mraah!" Frankenstein said angrily.

"Whatever, I don't care," the voice said. "Assuming I have the right number, here's what you have to do. You have to visit some concrete jungle. Wait, are you serious?" The voice spoke to someone, but it was muffled. "Fine. Okay, you're going to visit the concrete jungle. Apparently you know what you're supposed to get. No actual city name, though. Pfft. So lazy."

The voice hung up. Frankenstein repocketed his phone as Mr. Gus and Pizza Steve climbed back up to him.

"So lemme guess," Mr. Gus said. "There's an actual concrete jungle we need to visit?"

Above them, Giant Realistic Flying Tiger blushed and mewed, embarrassed.