no pizza permited

They won’t tell you how old the “No Pizza Permitted” sign is–but it’s older than “Cocktails and Dancing” or “No HAZMATS”–though younger than “Hootnanny Mondays.” Ban pizza? Really? Ellen erupts in goosebumps at the very thought. How else could a girl put on the 300 kilos they make you gain before you qualify for some private glory with a Nine-Meter Klondrit? Thank God for the Immaculate Suspension, she thinks, the years when blood was spilled to re-legalize pizza and the passions we live for, fruit flavored plasma, Atomic Democrat Stompers™, and personal bordello booths in airports.

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Title by: moonablaze
Story by: Bill Henderson

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