Under the Big Tent

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An unsupervised pizza skates over the edge of the oven and plops to the tiled floor. The next one sags over the stainless lip, drooping like one of Salvador Dali's timepieces, cheese bending and separating, the pepperoni settling down like chunks of slag. The whole thing hangs like an elongated tongue, steaming hot.

In a sudden display of agility, Chris grabs the metal blue peel and arches his scrawny body towards the oven, lifts the pizza to safety. He smoothes his dark mustache with parted fingers and bows deeply. Bravo, bravo!