A Man Walks into a Pizza Place

The bell above the door rang, and a large man stepped into the take-away pizza place. The man looked like he lived at the gym. His muscles bulging through the leather he wore on his legs. He looked like he could rip his black leather jacket with a simple deep breath. The spiked dog collar around his neck was incongruous considering his short, military haircut.

A clerk rushed over to greet him at the cash register. “Welcome to Charley’s Pizza,” he said. “What can we get for you today?”

The large man leaned in dangerously close. His breath was warm and moist, “This body needs sustenance. What do you have?” His words were short, clipped, and had an indistinguishable accent. He looked pointedly at the clerk’s name tag. “Tommy.”

Tommy looked up at the man and wished his company had issued face masks for his work with the public. “The menu is right above you,” he said. Then he noticed the man’s sunglasses. He probably would’ve noticed them sooner if he hadn’t been so concerned with the man’s breathing on him.

The man looked up and removed his sunglasses. His eyes gleamed red.

Tommy noticed the man had a short-barreled shotgun under his jacket. It was a little disconcerting, but Tommy figured the state probably had a concealed carry law on the books. Even if this man didn’t have a permit, Tommy wasn’t going to say anything. As long as it stayed pointed at the ground.

The man looked back at the clerk. “Tommy. I will have a large Snoopy pizza. Its ingredients seem to provide the highest calorie content on the menu.”

Tommy couldn’t help but laugh. He tried to stifle it, but it was too late.

The man grabbed Tommy by his uniform and lifted Tommy off the ground. “What is so funny? Tommy.”

Tommy’s eyes went wide. “Nothing. Nothing, sir. Let me just get that order in, and it’ll be right out. I’ll get you a soda, too. On the house.”

“You laughed. Tommy.” The man put the clerk back on the ground and brought his shotgun out with a click. “Why?”

Tommy backed away. A wet spot appeared on the front of his pants.

“Why did you laugh?”

“I… I… It’s just that…” Tommy stammered.

The man glared.

“Terminators don’t order Snoopy pizzas.”

“This terminator does. Go and get it for me.”