I woke up in the middle of the night feeling hungry and decided to go to the bathroom, but when I went to stand up, there was no floor. I get startled at the sight, but for some reason my hunger is stronger than the shock. As if flying, I float all the way to the kitchen.
Suddenly I hear this song as I open the fridge, .
My first instinct was to check my phone. Maybe SIRI played it by accident and this is just a creepy coincidence. My assumption was wrong. The phone was off, a dying battery keeping it from emitting any kind of sound. The song now played regardless of the fridge door. It mocked me, questioning my sanity with each “doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo”. I had to find this infernal careless whisper. with an unchanging expression I close the door. I open it once more, only to hear the song again and that mocking singing in the background. I look everywhere to find out where the sound is coming from.
The first thing I see is a 2-week-old Banana Salami Pizza, however, I didn’t even remember buying such atrocity in the first place. I don’t know which was more unsettling: that I don’t remember making a pizza purchase, or that this thing was whispering my name. “Krys…tel….” it said with a guttural whisper. “Kill…me…”. Yep, the “whispering my name” won the unsettling contest. Now I had to find a way to kill the rancid demon pizza before my friends arrived for movie night. But wait, did we ever agree to have a movie night?
The Pizza is looking at my very actions with a suspicious face. The last time Banana Salami Pizza looked at me like this, there was an intense desire in his eyes. A longing I’ve never seen in another human being before. I was also on a liter of acid.” The boiling sensation and the sexual stare of the pizza made me feel uncomfortable in ways I cannot describe. But the most disturbing thing is that it was oddly satisfying. The pizza’s eyes locked with mine. I couldn’t resist. One step closer with each deep breath. It was within arm’s length now. His aroma stung my nostrils with ferocity. The sweet banana goodness and the salty salami made my eyes water and my mouth salivate. I needed him. I wanted him.” The pizza could not help wondering in disgust as someone sliced bananas and placed them over him. “Did someone ever tell this shit for brains that bananas and salami don’t mix?” the pizza said as cold slices of slimy bananas were placed on him.
The pizza is winking sensually at me and the first thing that crossed my mind was, “Am I high, or is it the pizza? This is definitely not normal”. Specially my uncontrollable urge to want to eat it, despise my apparent disgust. That repulsive, yet stimulating thing, kept starring at me, and with a demanding low pitch voice said “wanna eat me? I sigh. “Look, Hawaiian Pizza is great, but I draw the line at raw bananas. Also, for some reason a banana-salami pizza sounds like some sort of Freudian phallic symbol trick.” After coming to the realization that this is a sentient piece of greasy pie, I decide to euthanize it with fire; making a note to not eat pizza for a month.
I close the fridge door and go back to sleep, then the microwave goes on for a second, then it goes *beep, beep…*. I look to where the microwave is supposed to be, only find an analogue timer instead. The pizza walks to me and says, “it’s time”. It stares at me with a scornful grin and all I could do at the time was awkwardly smile back.