Snow is fallin, all around us, children playin, havin fun...
I sang some fucking awful Christmas song under my breath as I pushed open the door of the Pizza shop.
It was Christmas Eve and we were having an early dinner. I had wanted something hot and devilishly tasty like a curry but had been outvoted by the family in a wanton display of democracy.
I much prefer the democracy where I say what we get to do and everyone has to obey...
Even worse, I had been sent out to purchase the bastarding things because the local Pizza place had a deal on. The deal being, that if you ordered before 4 o'clock you could get a twelve incher for a fiver.
An offer which is hard to refuse unless you hear it uttered in a Thai Brothel.
Good evening, sir. What can I get for you?
The man behind the till was an older jovial-looking fellow. Bald on top with big grey bushy mats of hair at the side of his head making him look like a Schnoodle's arse.
Good evening to you! Just checking, am I still in time for the "before four" offer?
I leaned on the counter nodding at the sign detailing the "12-inch Pizza, One Topping - £5 B4 4." I didn't really need to, it was quarter to four so I was ahead of the deal's end by fifteen minutes. I was only asking in that playing the game way.
Pizza-Man twitched and his jolly Santa smile disappeared almost instantly.
Before four? It's Christmas Eve.
He cleverly answered a question with utterly unrelated nonsense like any one of those spammy bastards that frequent the Blurt Platform.
I know it is Christmas Eve. Look.
I tugged at my Christmas Jumper which featured a woollen succession of turkeys in Christmas hats dancing.
Aye, so. It's Christmas Eve.
Pizza-Man uttered belligerently giving me some stink eye for good measure.
Yes, I get that. Is your deal not on today?
Again I pointed at the poster advertising the deal wondering if maybe Pizza-Man was just a fucking tramp that had murdered the owner and liked dressing in his skin whilst fucking with hungry people.
Pizza-Man looked at the clock on the wall and took a great breath inward before releasing it in a slow hiss through his snaggly yellowed teeth.
The deal is on.
He grated through his clenched teeth.
Magic, right. I'll have a Pepperoni, an onion, an Italian Sausage and a Marguerita, please.
I grinned happily at the old bastard, I love a good pizza deal.
Pizza-Man jerked his head back as if it were a weird fleshy gun being cocked.
Hold on, hold on. How many is that?
He looked puzzled and angry like a Welshman eating a Croque Monsieur.
Four. Four pizzas, please!
I beamed like the rakish charismatic fucking stallion that I was.
Naw. Naw, ye cannae have four. I will let you have one.
He patted his hand down hard on the worktop between us.
One? How the fuck is that going to feed my family. Behave yourself. Your poster says it is a fiver a pizza before four. Is the deal on or off?
I glared at his dog-arsed face and held his gaze till he looked away.
Fuck it. Fuck it. I will just put myself out of fucking business so you can get your fucking pizzas.
He stamped over to the cooking table and began angrily preparing the pizzas I had asked for.
A short and tense while later he sliced the last of them and slotted it in its box before scowlingly passing them over the counter to me.
Twenty quid.
He stated tersely.
I pulled a twenty out of my wallet and waggled it at him as I pulled the boxes onto my arm.
I have a good mind to tell you to stick your pizzas up your arse but I have a hungry mob back at the house who wouldn't be best happy so I won't.
His face turned bright purple at this and he snatched the twenty from my hand.
Stick them up ma arse? Ma fucking arse? I'll stick you up my fucking arse!?!
His voice trailed off as he realised the absurdity of what he had said.
I snorted disdainfully and headed for the door. I paused as it swung open and turned.
Oh aye and merry fucking Christmas.
