My PIzza Experience Was Mismanaged!

So, today I decided that my need for nutrition would be satisfied with Papa John's pizza. I choose Papa John's because you can order online, and I fucking hate talking to people in person, let alone on the phone.

So, I hit up my usual order (pan pizza with pepperoni, black olives, pineapple and extra cheese). I get my confirmation e-mail that it will be delivered, hot to my door, in 45 monutes or less. They conveniently leave out the "or free" clause. This way they can show up late as fuck and tell you to sit on it. I hate those corporate, money grubbing cocksuckers. I should be entitled to free shit if my pizza is late. What if I had plans later? What if, in 50 minutes the goat gets shaved and the orgy starts? Are they honestly saying that I would have to stop the festivities to answer the door for some dickhead who felt that 45 minutes wasn't fast enough to deliver a pizza it took 15 minutes to cook, 2 miles, and not even get compensated for it with free shit? Talk about an inconvenience!

This is all a moot point, because my pizza was on time. I answer the door and tip the 35 year old high school drop out (or he could have been military with a second job as well). Either way, I wished he would have fallen down my stairs on his way back to his car. I set my pizza down and get sidetracked. Fast forward a few hours, I start to think: "Boy, some pepperoni, pineapple, black olive, extra cheese pan pizza from Papa John's sure would be good right about now, good thing I placed that order early, and it arrived on time". I open my box, and low and behold, I am the proud owner of a pineapple, black olive, extra cheese and FUCKING SAUSAGE pizza. For those of you who are unaware, I cannot stand sausage on my pizza. Putting sausage on my pizza is worse than slapping me in the face or hitting on my mom.

I inspect the box to see if the order was fucked from the get go, or if the waste of life burnout who put the toppings on my pizza was just retarded (I am banking on both). Conveniently, my order was left off of my pizza box, but, it did say "This pizza experience has been managed by Greg O".

Fuck Greg O, I hope this motherfucker gets cancer....RIGHT IN THE NUTS. Before you get all high and mighty and start judging, I don't hope he dies from it. I just hope they have to castrate his ass and he goes through the rest of his life without nuts, and has to go on hormones, and the sudden rise in testosterone causes his body to rise his estrogen level; thus, giving him bitch tits. And, that the stress of having no nuts and tits, cause him to lose his hair. That way, he will be a nutless, nice rack having bald fuck. That'll teach that dickless cocksucker to "Manage" sausage onto my pizza experience.