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Thirty Minutes or Less. 

David hung up the phone and looked at the clock.

“Thirty minutes or less,” he said enthusiastically.

With anticipation, he went into the kitchen and sat out everything needed for dinner. Then once finished, David returned to the living room to await his delivery.

“Fifteen minutes,” he said checking the clock. “Better hurry.”

David hated when the drivers were late. But, a small part of him hoped it happened this time. He’d had a bad day, and free food would go a little way toward making up for it. The man continued to watch the clock.

A little while later, David eyed the second hand as it passed the twelve. A sly grin crossed his face.

“Looks like dinner is on you guys tonight,” David said gleefully.

When the bell sounded five minutes later, David opened the front door to a scrawny, glasses-clad teen holding an iPhone in his hand. Without looking up from the small screen, the young man held the box out to David. With a frown, the older man begrudgingly took it. His delivery now completed, the driver put his phone away with a forced sigh and then held his hand out once more.

“I’m not paying,” David told him flatly. “You’re late.”

The teenager rolled his eyes. “Look dude, I don’t get paid enough for this shit. Pony up.”

Becoming increasingly annoyed, David just stared at the young man. As if this day wasn’t bad enough, now he was being shysted by this entitled, teenage, asshole.

“From us to you in 30 minutes or less, or it’s on us,” David said, pointing at the box with frustration.

The driver looked at him with indifference. “I don’t give two shits about that, man,” he told David. “You ordered, and now it’s here, so pay up. Besides, I’ve better things to do than deal with your ass.”

If his eyes had been lasers, David would have seared a hole right through the little prick’s head.

“Tell you what,” the man said with a forced smile. “I think my checkbook is in the kitchen. Come on in and we’ll settle up. I’ll make it worth your while.”

The kid thought it over briefly. “Have any beer in there?” he asked with a grin.

“You know, I do actually,” David replied with a now genuine smile. “Follow me.”

Once in the kitchen, David pointed to the refrigerator. “Help yourself.”

The teen didn’t have to be told twice. He opened the door and began rummaging for his prize as the older man opened a drawer.


Sometime later, David smiled to himself as he packed his leftovers into a large Tupperware.

“Teenagers really aren’t that bad,” he said cheerfully while opening the fridge. “You just have to know how to handle them.”

Placing the Tupperware next to the box containing the uneaten pizza, David then turned his attention to the shelf above.

“They taste pretty good too,” he said, grinning at the teenager’s severed head as it stared back at him.

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