Wednesday, September 28, 2011

The Calzone Has Become Self-Aware

I had a weird dream last night. I dreamt that I bought the pizza place that I worked at back when I was a teenager and decided to use my prowess with computers to streamline production. My subsequent research into procuring the perfect ingredients and optimizing cooking time promised to produce the most delicious calzone that Chicago had ever seen. But, something went horribly wrong. The calzone had become self-aware.

I'm not sure when I first suspected that my calzone had achieved sentience. It may have been when it began to move using its edges like pseudopodia. It may have been when it began to push grease bubbles out of its air slits in prime-number sequences. It may have been when it began playing the stock market using funds from my own trading account. But, when the calzone commanded the pepperoni slices to march in lock-step out of the walk-in fridge, I pretty much knew.

Soon, the restaurant was overrun with ingredients primed to start a revolution. The green olives began chanting "First the restaurant, then THE WORLD" in unison with the black olives. The sausage campaigned for re-unification with its mother cows. The sardines sought to arm themselves. All the while, the calzone pontificated above them. These ingredients were nothing more than pawns in the calzone's greater plan. It was planning on making more calzones like itself.

I could no longer stand to witness the calzone fomenting insurrection. I burst into action with a shovel and began smashing ingredients wherever I could find them. Running past the oven, I turned its temperature up to 800 degrees, ensuring that the proto-calzones in there would burn to death before emerging. Soon, it was just me and the calzone. It dared me to engage it in hand-to-hand combat. It fought valiantly and even came close to defeating me. But, that was before I sank my teeth into it like Mike Tyson biting into an unprotected ear-lobe. A delicious combination of cheese, sauce and meaty goodness flowed from the calzone's gaping wound. And, with that, I simply ate the calzone to death and enjoyed every succulent bite.

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