incredibly beautiful stranger with fucked up contact lenses walks into your local pizzeria, asks if you’ve got meatball, almost bursts into tears when you don’t. you can barely understand what he’s saying through his accent. he’s wearing 3 different band t-shirts all layered on top of each other and platform heels. there’s a man standing in the back who looks like his brother. he’s slightly more intelligible and asks if you’ve got hamburger. ‘no,’ you say, ‘our city was just beset by plague and then blown up by satan.’ the first one is trying to control himself. he keeps picking up cans of soda, sniffing them, and putting them back down again. your boss made you come into work despite the fact that the block is in ruins. ‘can you check in the back?’ he asks, like you would keep meatball in the back but not up here. ‘i can give you pepperoni on the house,’ you say, desperate for this day to end. his eyes get glassy. he starts loudly proclaiming that humanity was worth saving while the other one starts smashing his head into the glass window. if it breaks it’s coming out of your paycheck. you wish satan had hit your store with you in it.












