I'm beginning to crave a pizza. I look up

I'm beginning to crave a pizza. I look up at the gray vastness of my living room. I know there is not much food for me in the fridge. I should just order some now.

ordering some pizza would make my day because its my favorite type of food

I'd eat pizza anything, that's how much I love it. Spaghetti pizza...check! Banana split pizza...sign me up! Biscuits and gravy pizza...you know it! Make it on a crust and cover it

with pig bung. What do I care? They never served us pizza in prison. It was part of our punishment. But since I got sprung, I opened my own legit pizza place. Our specialty is

the pep-pep pepperoni, which is baked with a ten-inch file in the the center, for special deliveries to the state pen. You can't imagine how many sad-eyed fathers or girlfriends

entered my little pizza shop requesting such a pie. I'd say. "I reformed. I'm on the straight & narrow". But pizza is round so I baked in the files & made special deliveries to

myself. I would bake a pizza then knock on my own door. While this was fun at first I caused myself to have a split personality. I was my normal self, and then a cabbie named Dean.

Dean knew every street in town. And he didn't live there. He just read maps. Then I started folding stories. The rest is history! Once you start, you cannot stop folding stories.

Eventually the stories start folding you. If you are lucky The Folder is good but most of the time your folder is not. Not to say they are evil although they may be.

It doesn't matter. Once your tenth line is written, that's it. Unless you are Det. Manatee, Mr. Pink Pants, Aunt Claudia, Bob and Bobbette, sea-monkeys, Blue Clyde, and the like.