slice to meat you, i'm big papa

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You tie your messy blonde hair into a messy bun. Your emerald eyes glisten with the morning sunlight. Another day of pointless work. You slump out of your bed and make your way to the bathroom. Your apartment is a mess and there are piles of books crowding every corner of the tiny space. You love to read because you're not like the other girls. But you can't live the life of the writer you always dreamt of. When you were five, your mom, who was Hilary Clinton, sold you to a pimp which started your black tar heroin addiction.

You put on your bright red Papa's Pizzeria uniform and slip on your shoes as you leave your apartment. You make it out the building when you see Roy, your coworker waiting outside for you. 

"H-hey Joy. You look mighty saucy today." Roy stammers, his cheeks blushing in the shapes of pepperonis.

"Roy! Why are you h-" You stop. Your pimp is standing by your car. 

"JOY! GET YOUR OOMPA LOOMPA ASS HERE RIGHT NOW!" Your pimp screams. 

"EAT MY SWEATY COCK HAIR DICKASS!" You scream back. 

Roy looks at you petrified. You look down to see that he wet his black unifrom pants.

"I-I should go. I just came to d-drive you to w-work. S-sorry." Roy practically whimpers. You pity Roy. He doesn't understand your torturous backstory.

Your pimp pulls you into his Honda civic and licks your face. You swoon. You know people aren't supposed to say this, but you actually really like your pimp. He swerves our of the parking lot of your apartment building and drives down the road to Papa's Pizzeria.

You stare idly at the outside of Papa's Pizzeria before entering. The obnoxiously bright green awning canopies hung above the windows are the first thing you notice after the massive sign before entering the building. As you enter the building, you plug your phone into the aux and play "In The Party" by Flo Milli. You begin to get the pizzeria ready to open. 

"YEAH, DICKS UP WHEN I STEP IN THE PARTY!" You scream the lyrics of "In the Party" by Flo Milli. 

The door opens.

Roy enters.

"In the Party" by Flo Milli is blasting in the background. 

"J-joy. I, erm, I have something to tell you. I've liked you for a long time. You're so fucking hot and you look better than a cheese pizza with pepperonis and mushrooms. I don't care that Hilary Clinton sold you as a sex slave to a pimp when you were five. I don't care that you have to use black tar heroin every 20 minutes or else you begin to have seizures. I don't care that you have chlamydia and genital warts. I don't care that your coochie smells like anchovies. I see you for who you are. A nerdy loner who likes to read books and loves pizza. Like me. You're honestly my mood. Be my shawty." Roy confesses. His ocean eyes pierce into yours. You are speechless.

"R-roy..." You stutter. You feel conflicted. You never thought of Roy in that way before. You've always had a crush on Papa Louie. 

Just as you think this thought, Papa Louie comes out of his office.





  

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