“Like what?”, the waitress asked more outta politeness than concern.
“Like some fuckin’ jerkoff with pepperoni grease on his sleeve! That’s what!”
The 16” large pizza in front of him bore all the proper signs of quality. Fresh mozzarella. Mini cup & char pepperoni with jacuzzies of orange oil beckoning to be devoured. Strips of fresh basil and a dusting of dried oregano were the biggest compliments to the sweet tomato sauce. Big Dick Buster needed no invitation to gorge himself. A floppy slice was picked up, folded and then shoved into his gullet with little care nor concern for his well-being. When he bit into the pizza, grease gushed out the other side like a pimple on prom-day and coated the white-sleeve of his dress shirt in a vibrant orange oil.
“Oh...”, she tried to hold back the grin on her face, “I thought it was something serious.”
Richard smiled a buck toothed and wide-one, his pearly whites stained in tomato sauce and with bits of cheese in between some.
“I’m in some serious need of some napkins,” he paused, “And a 6 inch meatball sub.”
[ Big Dick Buster: Pre-Game Start ]
The waitress giggled and went off, returning first with a handful of thin white napkins. Richard dabbed his face and rolled up his sleeves. Those grease stains? Charge it to the game and Big Dick shoulda known better than to dive in head first. The mess was part of the relieving of the stress. Dick had come of age in the age of Canon and COVID-19. Stress relief was a whole industry. For Mr. Big himself? There was no better stress relief than an extra-large with extra cheese.
The cost was the sanctity of his second hand suit sleeves. It was a cost Richard was all too willing to pay.
The first week of school had been a blur of papers and greetings and meetings. There was a changed aura around the campus and whether it was real or imagined by Richard—there was a tension in the air that could then be traced to the center of his gut. College applications and club leadership elections. Basketball practice and the end of basketball being the main focus of his life—at the same damn time. Nothing stopped for nobody. There was no break and there was no reprieve. Shit happend and life kept moving on. Dick felt like he hadn't stopped moving since high school had started.
That right there? Enough to drive a sane man berserk. It was Pre-Calc homework that had forced Dick outta his room, away from his desk and into his camry and speeding towards downtown Salem. It was that large pizza at Slice, Slice Baby that would provide him a reprieve from the restless days that came with being a John Endecott Terrier. Richard had grown up on these streets and Salem was as familiar to him as the back of his hand. Slice was nearly always packed but on weekdays in between school getting out and the dinner rush there was a small gap where the industrious and the early birds could make way and enjoy some baked zitti with the retirees before the place became overly crowded. And so it was with that goal and with that knowledge in his back pocket that Big Dick made his way to the family owned pizzeria. His luck was looking up when he came in and it was nearly empty.
His luck was looking up until that slice of pizza threw up all over his shirt.
Cost of business, charge it to the game.
Big Dick sighed, unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves. He picked up another slice and shoved the whole thing in his mouth within two bites. Grease dripped onto his hands and out of his mouth and unto his chin. Pepperoni pizza if done right was always a little messy.
But making the mess was a part of relieving the stress.
