Pizza! Pizza!

It was eight o'clock and I was starving.  The only thing to eat in the kitchen was a pound of expired ground sirloin, some canned peaches and some questionable tomatoes. 

So I ordered a Baby Pan! Pan! from Little Caeser's.  Healthy? No.  Did I care? No.

Being the exceptionally lazy (and crazy hungry) person that I was I pulled up to the window and was given - a teeny tiny box.  I stared at it and handed the equally tiny woman my hard-earned cash. 

It daunted me from the passenger seat as I headed home.  Mocking me with its tiny boxy frame.  "I can't believe that you only get one tiny little pizza now - what happened to two?"  I said alound as I reminisced about the days of ol' when I could order a pizza from the orange-clad little dude and get one free. Now, they apparently hand over a little box and wish you many happy returns while starving to death on the floor of your white-tiled kitchen.

Getting home, I attempt to make a salad with the questionable tomatoes which revolt by instantly bursting and squirting juice up my arm before deflating into pathetic flat versions of their formerly rotund selves.  

Sighing, I sit down in front of my tiny box (think 3" by 3") and open it to reveal a little square pizza.  "I can't believe it.  Only one!  I'm gonna starve!" I moan to no one in particular since my hubby is off traveling, making due with large-sized portions of food from Bob Evan's, Cracker Barrell and Outback Steakhouse. 

I picked up the mini pizza, took a bite and looked back at the box.  Another, equally  cheesy and ooey gooeyily yummy pizza lay nestled there, hiding from me in plain site.

I laugh and quickly close out of Little Caeser's website's Customer Comment section. 

That'll teach me to doubt The Caeser!