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I peered around the corner and in through the pizza parlor window, waiting for the proper time to strike. They had so many varieties, so many flavors. I find it incredible how a simple change of what you pile on top can transform a pizza. Or how it can transform anything…if I was wearing a suit and I had a nice haircut I might…taste different? It’s hard to compare a person and pizza. But you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. But I certainly look homeless.

Mario, the owner of the pizza place, had told me to not come around his place anymore, but I knew his name wasn’t really Mario even though his nametag said it. That fact made his authority void in my eyes. Every night I could wait until 10:00 p.m. when the pizzeria closed and I could scoop they’re extra pizza out of the trashcan and eat it then, but it would be cold and covered in bugs. I might be homeless but I’m not a possum. I have faked being dead once…a policeman had accosted me and hit me over the head with his baton. I just laid there as still as I could and held my breath until he left. I bet he has terrible nightmares about that. I shouldn’t need to use that skill tonight if my mission goes accordingly to plan.

Now I’m a secret agent, a spy, a trickster. I have spent the morning planning my plan sitting on a bench in the park across the street. I will enter the parlor as if I have the proper funds to purchase a slice with feta cheese and spinach. My mom used to like that. I already know they will not have this flavor because they do not make that flavor on Wednesdays. Even though they do not make it on Wednesdays, they leave the flavor on the menu. When they inform me of their inability to serve me feta and spinach pizza I will begin to scream. Once they have calmed me down, which I hope they do, I will demand a slice of plain pizza free of charge because they were unable to serve me properly.

I was ready to put the plan in motion, to take it to the next level, and get some of that legendary Italian cuisine in my mouth. I turned the corner and pushed through the door. The front door pushed inward, which is a fire code violation because if the building were on fire someone inside would have to grab a burning hot metal handle and pull it towards them to exit. This place had great pizza though. I got in line and I could tell that the other customers were displaced by my stench. Sorry…I just want to enjoy the same pizza as you do so, don’t give me that look.

While I wait to reach the front of the line I survey the happy people eating the delicious zaz. People call pizza zaz some time because of the z’s in it I guess, I like the way it sounds. My gaze falls upon to young men eating a slice, respectively. They both have spiked up, gel-covered hair, and are both eating their pizza with a fork and knife. A fork and knife? Are you kidding me? That is a preposterous way to enjoy pizza. Unacceptable, not okay. The one with the bleached blonde hair had already desecrated his pizza with utensils but I could save the other slice from the one with the Mohawk. I needed ammunition. At the table next to me a father was tickling his baby daughter in the chair and the child’s legs were wiggling in delight. I grabbed the baby shoe off of the baby foot and pegged the Mohawked one in the face. I took two large strides to reach his table, and snapped his utensils over my knee. I then grabbed him by his shirt with one hand, took his pizza with the other and took a large bite out of it, explaining to him that THIS is how you eat pizza. I took another bite gesturing to his companion, making sure he understood the proper etiquette. I told them both to show me they understood, and they followed in suit, biting their pizzas like Americans. I then told them to give me their slices so I could make sure they understood. The one with the bleached head had ordered Sicilian style with pepperoni and the other one had feta and spinach. Feta? FETA!? SINCE WHEN DO YOU SERVE FETA ON WEDNESDAY!? MARIO!? SINCE WHEN DO YOU SERVE FETA ON WEDNESDAY!? Presumably the police had been on their way for a while, and I felt the baton hit my head before I saw them. I activated my possum abilities, hoping they would run away again.