Tortured and mangled,
Hungry and hateful,
Vicious and covered
In viscous fluids.
Hungry for pizza, the cannibal feasts.
A creature of cravings and conspiracies.
Black arts conspire with brick oven masters, birthing
his face: the disaster,
Dying a dead black crusty cancer without answers.
The werepizza is after you.
A werepizza he’s been since the age of sixteen when he
got disgusting...
Since then he’s preyed on the weak and the lame,
covering them in pepperoni
And garlic and olive and onion and peppers and cheese
and broccoli
And chicken and sausage and mushroom, jalapecos and
anchovies.
(Hello Sir, here’s your pizza-dear god young man what
has happened to you?
What are you talking about sir? What? What? It’s your
face! It’s…it’s REVOLTING!!!
You look like something birthed from a witch’s cauldron
boiling full of cheese
that coated you while you crawled out and your skin is
blistering and popping
from the boiling cheese! f*ck you mister.
I don’t get paid enough to listen to this kind of shit!
No wait!
Do you want me to kill you and put you out of your
disgusting misery?
f*ck you mister! Well call me if you can’t do it
yourself.)
BEWARE or be aware:
Werepizza!
BEWARE or be aware:
Werepizza!
BEWARE or be aware:
Werepizza!
BEWARE or be aware:
Werepizza!