George was known as a tough guy who had a very short fuse. People didn’t want to cross him, lest they end up pushing up daisies in the local cemetery.
One night George decided to throw a party over at his house for a few dozen of his closest friends and he hired a caterer to provide hors d’oeuvres for the gathering. On the night of the party, though, George had a strong yearning for pizza. When the caterer showed up with a cornucopia of hors d’oeuvres, George told the caterer that he didn’t want them and demanded that he go get him a dozen steaming pizzas.
The surprised caterer looked at George and said, “Sir, I’ll be happy to procure the pizzas you’re asking for, but what am I supposed to do with all of these hors d’oeuvres?”
“I don’t give a shit what you do with them,” George said. “Take them back, throw them out, donate them to charity, whatever. Just get me my goddam pizzas.”
“How would you like to handle to cost of the hors d’oeuvres?” The caterer asked. “I’m sure we can negotiate a fair price.”
George pulled his revolver from his shoulder holster inside his jacket and held it up to the caterer’s forehead. “How about we negotiate that you go get me those pizzas I asked for and I won’t shoot you right between the eyes?”
“Yes sir,” the caterer said, as the trickle of warm urine made its way down his leg.
As the caterer turned around to leave, George called out to him, “And you’d better hurry back with those pizzas if you know what’s good for you.”
Sorry I’m late with this post, but I was away most of the afternoon and evening. This was written for yesterday’s Three Things Challenge from Paula Light, where the three things are “pizza,” “daisy,” and “revolver.” Also for these daily prompts from yesterday: Word of the Day Challenge (yearning), Ragtag Daily Prompt (cornucopia), Your Daily Word Prompt (negotiate), and Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (hurry).