Owen Savage

The Pizzapocalypse

It was another day in the life of Richie, the whistle of the teapot pierces the air as Rich torches the end of last night’s cigarette, drops his lighter, slides into his slippers and runs a come through his hair all in one breath. He exhales the tobacco smoke across the room, through the hallway, down the stairs and into the kitchen where he begins the obligatory search for breakfast. Hurds of old cans, canned food, canned coffee and beer cans defend Richie’s breakfast with their mass, a cloud of smoke, a swipe of his arm and now the cans lay discarded on the floor and access to the cabinets has been rightfully granted. It’s beans for breakfast again and by now nobody in the house complains, Richie lives with four other guys, one of which is now silencing the teapot, another asleep in bed, another a sleep on a couch and the last is likely in the bathroom. 

Richie may be a messy guy, however his roommates are another story, Rich gave up complaining about dishes, beer cans, old food and other forms of litter throughout the house months ago, he lacked the proper leadership skills to express himself clearly and effectively and he knew it. There was a time in Richies life where he thought that may change, that one day he could be the CEO of some company, or a suited bank teller, bringing home flowers to a small family in a neat little house in a quiet suburb; where he would take his suit coat off, hang it in the same place everyday with his hat, shoes and tie and sit in a cozy chair reading the paper by the fire with vases china and golf trophies on the mantle. Everything laid out for him to enjoy with no surprises. These sleepy morning thoughts meander through Riches head as the beans on the stove begin to catch fire. Smoke, everywhere, burning his glazed eyes, billowing from the beans on the burner. Bending over, Richie sputters and hacks like a tired lawn mower, choking on grass and years of hard labor, his cigarette near caught in his throat, expelled onto his bathrobe, burrowing itself, discarded on the floor. The beans are burned, says Rich to his four roommates, who now stand before him clouded in smoke. 

The day goes on, Richie found something to eat out of an old Pringles can and some carrots that were really meant to be dipped in ranch but the ranch was expired and so was the blue cheese and most of the condiments anyways for that matter. Today was a day to look forward to anyhow, everyone in the house was off work, there was beer in the fridge, spirits were high and the weather was great. By noon the five guys were out on the porch sippin some drink and smoking, the TV was still on inside the house blaring, however no one heard or cared what it had to say. Something on the news about the end of the world, politics, foreign conflict or something like that. Richie did not concern himself much with the news, politics and modern events, being a college dropout, working at a pizza restaurant Richie felt very ignored by mainstream society, a meaningless role to play in the big picture, a small cog in the great geers that kept our society revolving, just a another nameless face occasionally serving pizza to the higher ups of society. Richie felt his opinion didn’t matter, nobody asked him what he thought. Richies roommates were much like himself, college dropouts, either working minimum wage or not working at all, they all shared the same feelings about politics and worldly matters. Catching part of a conversation on the television from inside, Richie says to them “Maybe the world will end today, ha, ha, wouldn’t bother me”, Richies remark is followed by a chorus of laughter and another of his roommates, Mike says, “Don’t get too excited there Ritch, even if it does I doubt your boss will consider that a valid excuse to call out!”.

 Now it’s three o’clock and the guys are floating down the river on some tubes, laughing, joking around and just having a really good day off. All of a sudden they see this guy floating down the river on a canoe, an old man with hair down to his waist and an even longer beard.

They call out to the man as he gets closer and finally get close enough to talk to him, the old man is blind and he says to them “beware! The day of judgement is upon us” All five guys hold back laughter, “are you serious, old man?” says one. The old man only repeats his statement, paddles on and continues to sing a song in an unrecognizable language. “Strange”, says Richie, “What a weird day this is”. “That’s just a typical Monday in this town”, chuckles Ritchies roommate, Mike. “Monday!” Ritchie howls and his body becomes rigid and tense, “I thought it was sunday!, I got work today!”. Everyone laughs as Ritchie jumps off his float and swims to shore. 

Ritchie rushes into work, running through cars, ducking by pedestrians in the street, spilling his cup of coffee in every direction, foaming at the mouth and arrives to work exactly one minute late. His boss then begins to chew him up, cursing at him up and down, “you’re late to work”, his boss then spits him out into the pizza kitchen. Like a den of lions, hungry customers, having watched this scene, glare and laugh at Ritch. Richie begins to work churning out pizzas as fast as he can, sweating profusely beside the hot oven. All of a sudden Richie reaches to grab a tray of dough to discover the cooler is empty, the pizza progress is now halted and the impatient customers stare at Rich. Ritchie then has to go down to the basement in order to get more dough. He walks past the customers, insisting he will be right back with more dough. Ritchie reaches the cooler, steps inside and slips, slamming the door behind him. Now in the Dark, fumbling around for the lightswitch, the floor begins to shake. An enormous bang violently shakes the entire cooler. In the dark it is quiet and Ritch wonders what it was all about as he gropes around for the handle of the door. Finding the handle, Ritch swings the door open and the sudden flood of light from outside temporarily blinds him. As his vision begins to come back to him Ritchie notices the wall in front of the cooler is no longer there, neither is the wall behind that, or even the stairs. Everything as far as Ritchie can see has been laid to ruble. In shock and confusion Ritchie doesn’t even move for a moment, wondering what this is all about.

Days later Ritchie has managed to reassemble the pizza oven, collect what has been left of the pizza tools and boxes and feed himself more pizza than he has had in the last year. Surprisingly much of the inventory had not been entirely destroyed, having been an old building most of the tools were made with steel and had been around since the 1900s. The pizza oven ran on charcoal and the basement of the place was filled with enough charcoal to last years. The pizza boxes and canned ingredients had been stored in a metal enclosure much like a safe and the cooler had just been freshly stocked the day before. There was a silo filled with flour, and all the dough making machines were still functional. Ritchie had enough pizza ingredients to last for what he calculated as around one hundred years. 

Each day Ritch would wake up, make two large pizzas, one cheese and one pepperoni, Ritchie would take these pizzas and place them in a box, label each box so as not to confuse the toppings and carry them in a delivery satchel into the rubble. Ritch always brought two, not necessary because he wanted to eat two large pizzas everyday but because he had to. Ritchie knew that if there was one living person out there, they would be starving and barely alive so he wanted to have food hot and ready to deliver to them when they needed it. 

One day while Ritchie was on his walk out through the ruins he heard footsteps. He would stop in his tracks and look around him to study what he had heard, however it seemed like every time he stopped to listen the tracks would stop. All of a sudden a great pain exploded from his side, someone had struck him with a piece of a lamp. Ritchie stumbles back in shock and his attacker raises the lamp to strike again and Ritchie calls out “Wait!, I have pizza!”. With a look of confusion the attack’s voice cracks as he asks what kind? and Ritch replies, cheese and pepperoni. Half an hour and a full belly later Ritch and his new friend, Carl are walking at a brisk pace back to the pizza oven.

Weeks go by, Ritchie has taught Carl very much about the pizza business and Carl has been enthusiastic to learn the trade. Ritchie strategically avoids giving away the secret ingredient, in these times, knowledge is a very valuable asset. 

In time other survivors join the business, apprenticing with Ritchie accordingly. Everyday Rich is the first to wake up and begin his daily routine. Ritch thoughtfully ignites the pizza oven and assembles all the ingredients in preparation for the day, in the past Ritchie used to hurry through the prep work completing the chore without much thought. These days Ritchie enthusiastically prepares his work for the day ready to serve his community and friends with compassion, in return his people look up to him and admire his leadership ability. Ritchie has even made plans for construction projects.

Years pass by and the society is running smoothly, hundreds of people are committed to the community, everyone has their place in the pizza palace. These days Ritchies only job is to administer the secret sauce and he does so in privacy, so as not to give away the secret. There are too many workers now and too many to few positions to be held, most people in the community just roll the dough and have little to no hope of moving up in rank. The hierarchy has become rigid and only the managers have a say in what types of pizza are to be made, with Ritchies final approval of course. One day Ritchie wakes up to begin his daily routine and meets someone he had never seen working on the commune and to his surprise it’s his old friend from college, Tom. The two recognize each other and in shock greet each other happily. Tom tells Ritch how he managed to survive the apocalypse and Ritch tells him. As Ritchie gets halfway through the story, Tom realizes he is talking to the pizza king himself. In shock, Tom says “Wait, you’re that pizza guy!”, “I’ve got so many great toppings I want to suggest”. Having heard this many times before, Ritch does the best he can to be kind and listen to his friend, knowing that it is likely impossible that the pizzas he suggested will ever become popular. 

The way the pizza society functions, it is very difficult for the many lower class pizza workers suggestions to be heard and even more difficult for them to move up in rank. The pizza system is successful in terms of getting people fed, however the only kinds of pizza people can eat are cheese and pepperoni. This is something that has recently been bothering Ritchie and he goes to bed that night thinking about what he has created and what he has become. 

The next day Ritch wakes up and realizes what he has to do. Ritchie walks along the line of dough rollers and while doing so, drops a slip of paper on the floor with the secret ingredient written on it clearly in the open for anybody to find. 

Years later the exposed secret has led to great disorganization within the pizza community. All kinds of pizza can be seen being eaten everyday, no longer just cheese and pepperoni, people have been experimenting with extremely extravagant topics like, ketchup and pineapple, or apple and salmon. Richie no longer lives as a pizza king within the pizza society, he grew out his hair and wears a beard and nobody recognizes him. Richie wakes up everyday unknowing as to what kinds of pizza the community has in store for him and at any point in the day everything could change.