A little of this and a bit more

Alan Crawford presents twisted short and some longer stories for adults, with quite a number of his rants and observations as well.

Several curious people, really it’s just one, asked me how or where the ideas came from. Thankfully there’s no clear answer. When the trousers, mind, or weather conditions suit such things, the computer opens, a page appears, and it starts to flow. All designed to promote my nonsense, which may be adult in nature but not necessarily mature.

Rubbish pizza

Reading Time: 3 minutes

T’was the night before Wednesday and it dawned on Frank that Tuesday was good for pizza. All the local shit shops who willingly dragged themselves into a franchise nightmare had been reducing the price of their wholesome-less fare. Yes, she was a wonderful lover but had rubbish pizza. T’was a very naughty Frank.

Some pizza shops, interestingly called restaurants, could almost be paying the consumer to take the round – or square shit home with them. Eating in would soon attract a $2.00 surcharge but management was concerned that this financial impost may deter their loyal clientele. Their clientele consisted of a wide range of desperate, socially awkward folks.  Students, unemployed, homeless ( yes – delivery was problematic ) and the drug affected bods who should have known better.

Frank fell within a number of these categories, but the one thing he was really confident of; was that he was not desperate. He’d enjoyed a rousing rambunctious round of sexual athletics. His wild lover who popped into his life from time to time and left him breathless, shagged (after shagging), spent, odorous, calm and ready for sleep.

But today being Tuesday

He realised that he was a tad hungry and the thought of rubbish pizza popped into his head.

His lover’s needs required a certain trimness and fitness on his part. She also called upon his need to hold his breathe for a minute or so. She was very demanding and disarmingly lovely. But he had to eat, he couldn’t resist the thought of food and pizza hit the button. The stretch of his comfortable undershorts could be affected by this huge large pizza. He’ll work it out and certainly his lover could sort out the other pant stretching reaction he was often keen to offer.

So Frank dressed himself, or more accurately adjusted his pyjama outfit to something reasonably presentable outdoors and wandered around to the pizza franchise. The owner was outside and Frank said good afternoon. Frank could tell it was the owner as he looked incredibly sad and had chunks of hair missing from his already receding hairline. He looked a mess and mumbled hello back.

The Australian Supreme Court decision ( yes you read correctly – the supreme court ) was very costly and came down in favour of the franchisor – the ee’s were fried. The decision meant that the or’s could wage war amongst each other and the poor schmuck ee’s had to obey. They were selling pizzas cheaper than they could make them.

Frank didn’t give a shit as he scooped up his prime gourmet succulent $5.00 pizza and wandered back home. His dogs weren’t the only k9s interested in his dinner. He struggled, but managed to make it home. His track suit pants had a couple of new holes, his sleeve had liberal spread of doggy dribble, but the pizza survived unscathed.

It was rubbish pizza

But it was hot, with an intriguing flavour mix offered by the wide range of conflicting ingredients. The base was like a burnt, rock hard cow patty left baking in the sun for days. The pizza shop suggested it was the latest in base design – they obviously no freak’n idea about bases.

Or as was becoming apparent, the first principle of business. Namely – “Sell for more than it costs to create”. Their ads were full of beaming young people all gagging on the shitty pizzas, but happy in having saved so much money.

Frank’s lover was so impressed with his undergarment stretching the next day, but she failed to notice that his waist expansion had caused a bit of stretching as well. Only some of the stretching was due to the rubbish pizza.

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I'm an increasingly grumpy old fart posting rants, observations and trying to write somewhat twisted short and slightly longer stories for adults. All rights reserved unless otherwise credited © Alan Crawford - 2024

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