I don't mean to alarm anyone, but pizza is at a crossroads. In the past, pizza acted a grand uniter of humanity: A fulfilling, shareable meal with nearly endless possibilities. Now, pizza divides us. Thanks to Pizzagate, your kind, local pizza proprietors are no longer considered paragons of society--admired by children, desired by women. Today, they are feared and loathed, not for sub-par pies, but for their supposed links to child sex slavery rings. And now we face our largest threat since the vile Robert Atkins and his diet nearly destroyed our carb-based business plan nearly 15 years ago. May he burn in Hell.
I shouldn't have to tell you "pizza" and "children" have been synonymous for decades. Baseball games, birthday parties, and yes, even the rare bris have been celebrated with pizza as the main course. When the Ninja Turtles emerged nearly 30 years ago and turned kids on (in a completely non-sexual way) to pizza, we were there, spatulas in hand. And our literacy programs upped the amount of written book reports in public schools by a whopping 5000 percent throughout the late '80s and early '90s--a feat that hasn't been repeated since. When kids come into one of our locations, they sit down for a delicious slice of pizza--not a delicious slice of getting chloroformed and held in an offsite shipping container for later transport to Eastern Europe.
Oh, I've read the stories. And you know what really burns my cheese? That people would dare to associate pizza with these unsubstantiated claims. Hamburgers? Sure. The writing's on the wall for that slice of Americana, and I can easily see the scoundrels at Burger King trying to "expand their operations" if you know what I mean. And burritos? Well, I'd believe you in a second. I've watched the news and seen what happens down there in Mexico, and frankly, I'm highly suspicious of any place that sells a five-pound rolled food item for only eight dollars. But to connect pizza to the defilement of children? Disgusting. Where I come from, "cheese pizza" isn't code for "child pornography," as so many websites would tell you. To me, it stands for hope: a platform for limitless topping combinations.
And another thing: Pizza is apolitical. If we even were to start a child sex slavery ring--which I assure you we haven't done, and never will--all parties would be welcome. Democrats, Republicans, and Libertarians alike would be part of our vast conspiracy that inexplicably uses pizza restaurants as fronts. "Come in," we'd say, "have a slice, and let's talk about the child sex slavery ring we're all part of and enjoy." No matter our differences of opinion, one thing would unite us: pizza. Also, our love of child sex slavery. Of course, I must stress this is a hypothetical situation, but regardless, pizza plays no favorites. Which is why the sheer slander tossed at this delicious food like so much shredded mozzarella truly breaks my heart.
In closing, I can only hope my writing has helped quiet the fears of Pizzagate. And please, don't come to our restaurants with guns. If you show up looking for our child sex slavery dungeons, instead you'll discover the stomach contents of the single mom working the register. And it'll most likely be pizza, since we let our employees have two slices on their lunch break instead of health insurance. Our pizza promise is this: If you don't enter our stores with a gun full of bullets and a brain full of unhinged questions, we'll serve you with a smile. Now that sounds better than two medium pizzas with two toppings for only twenty dollars--which just happens to be our January special. Please check your Sunday circular for more details.
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