Special Delivery

"I say, make the new guy do it." Russell suggested, folding his arms across his chest.

"No no no no no...." Mr. Schwartz said, trailing off as he tried to come up with a good reason for his protest. "He has no idea what he'd be getting into." That was the excuse he decided on.

"Exactly!" Russell hollered.

"It could be very dangerous! Especially for him. He's never made a delivery before! Not even to a normal person!" He was not going to send his newest, youngest, and best, employee to Cincinnati, Ohio in 1947.

"Come on! It's only 1947! He doesn't kill anyone until 1969! He's only like thirteen in 1947." Dexter, who had been quiet up until now, argued. "He's gotten learn what kinda job he's got now."

"Yeah. Besides, I delivered to him last time." Russell said.

"I'm out of the running too, Mr. Schwartz. I've reached my work threshold for today. I just finished fixing the car. Russell broke it on his last delivery." Dexter said, snickering.

"Shut up!" Russell squawked, elbowing his co-worker in the ribs.

"I'm not sending Eric, who is a cook, by the way, not a delivery boy, to delivery a pizza to Charles Manson." Mr. Schwartz spoke calmly, holding his ground. He couldn't care less that Russell broke the car. Dexter had fixed it anyways.

"Thirteen-year-old Charles Manson." Russell muttered. Mr. Schwartz gave him a look that said, I don't care. He's still dangerous. "You two are delivering the pizza and that's final." Both Russell and Dexter sighed as Mr. Schwartz walked back into his office and slammed the door. The truth was, they knew Charles would still be dangerous, as he grows up to be one of the evil people on the planet. They were terrified.

"Well, I guess I'll have to get goin'" Russell said reluctantly. He grabbed the pizza box off the counter and started heading towards the garage. All of the sudden, Dexter grabbed his arm, almost making him drop the pizza.

"Dude! What the f-" Russell started before he was cut off by Dexter.

"Maybe you don't have to 'get goin''" Dexter said smirking. "I have a plan."

~~~~~~~

"Hey! New guy!" Russell called as he entered the kitchen, tossing the pizza box on the counter.

"My name is Eric." The 'new guy' responded as he carried another pizza out of the oven and placed it on the other counter.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Russell said waving his hand around as if to whip away Eric's name and defense. "Anyways, Schwartz says it's your turn." He put his hands in his pockets and nodded towards the meat-lovers' pizza sitting in its box on the counter. Eric looked at, confused.

"But I'm just a cook. I don't deliver." Eric argued.

"You do now." Russell pushed. Dexter, leaning against the doorframe, looked down, trying to hide the smirk on his face.

"What?" Eric asked, not buying the lie at first.

"Says he wants you to know what kind of job you're getting yourself into." Dexter said

from the doorway.

"Why would he say that?" Eric questioned, beginning to box up the pizza that had just finished baking.

"'Cause it's for Charles Manson." Russell responded quickly. Eric stopped what he was doing.

"C-charles Manson? Like, the serial killer?" Eric asked, looking for clarification. He couldn't have heard right. A small part of him (the part of him that wasn't scared of being murdered) was just surprised to hear that Charles Manson knew about their tiny (not to mention strange) pizza business.