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Melvin collapsed on his couch with a heavy sigh blowing through his lips, the days events running ragged circles in his head and throbbing behind his eyes like the bass from a particularly hectic rap song. He pulled his glasses off and placed them on the end table next to the couch. He needed some aspirin, but the walk from his couch to the kitchen cabinet seemed like a trek far worse than passing through the Sahara Desert with only one good leg and Gilbert Gottfried for company. In short, he was exhausted.

On the brighter side of things, he did have a date with Courtney the cute waitress tomorrow evening. Not only that, but Olivia Crabapple, his boss from hell, had fucked him senseless tonight. What an interesting and totally unexpected day he'd had, and it was all thanks to the mysterious witch he'd accidentally met and her so-called love juice.

Melvin reached for his remote and clicked on the television, flopping to one side on the couch. His stomach rumbled as he searched for something to watch, hopefully something that would tickle his funny bone. He needed a good laugh. Or maybe an interesting documentary on the History Channel to further enlighten his mind. Something about Nazis and how the Allies had outsmarted their Teutonic shit. His stomach groaned again, louder this time, refusing to be ignored.

"Pizza," Melvin murmured. Yeah, pizza sounded great. Pizza sounded like the solution to all of the world's problems at the moment. Hey, I've got the answer for world peace! Have a slice of pizza! Melvin smiled at the thought; boy, he was in a silly mood tonight.

He reached for the phone and speed-dialed his favorite pizza joint, ordering a pepperoni with mushrooms. He gave them his address, thanked them, and hung up the phone. Whoever had invented pizza delivery was a true genius; Melvin wished he could shake the dude's hand and thank him for the good work.@@