On a cold December evening, Boris was hungry,

On a cold December evening, Boris was hungry, so he phoned up the local pizza delivery service. "Hello, how may I help you?" The voice said. "Hello, I'd like to order a

pizza please stuffed with kotlety, caviar & cabbage, with sideorder of Shchi & large bottle vodka. Tell delivery boy to ring Gorky Street Apt. asking for Boris." "This is Domino's

, we'll be there in 30 minutes or less!" Boris hung up, smiled, and screwed a silencer onto his Glock. When the bizarre pizza order arrived, Boris hid behind the couch and yelled

"30 minutes my pasty, white behind! Leave the pizza on the stoop or I'll blow your lyin' face off!" Boris shot a warning through the window. Rolling out from behind the couch, he

peered out, only to receive a faceful of piping hot meat lover. "I'll blow your lyin' face off!" Boris screamed, vaulting through the window with his marshmallow gun.

When the fluff settled, Boris and the pizza guy both lay dead in a pool of marshmallows, pepperoni, and blood. Marta the cleaning lady found them just as the cathedral bells tolled

"Ah, so this is what the onion foretold the other day," thought Marta as she rang the police. "No way I'm cleaning this mess up, though." The corpses of Boris and the pizza guy

were bloating happily in the pantry in the unusually hot summer they were having. A tired sound police woman answered on the forth ring, but Marta couldn't speak as her mouth was f

-illing up with slugs. Where were they coming from? Slugs never came out during their summers, for they were usually in their nests until late December. Marta spit them out and sta

mped her feet in disgust. "Slugs? Slugs are disgusting! I asked that you serve me snails!" And that's why we never eat at continental McDonald's anymore.