One day, a Ciccero’s Pizza menu from Pico and La Cienega was discovered on the door of my friend’s apartment. I happened to be at the apartment at the time and we decided to give the place a try. They were offering a 2-for-1 deal, so I opted for the All Meat Special, featuring a delightful spread of pepperoni, salami, sausage and ham. My foolish friends decided they would get the Vegetarian Special, which contained gross, gross and even more gross. I laughed as they placed their order, contented in the fact that they could never be as happy as me.
The pizza was delivered in about a half-hour. I opened up a pizza and stumbled backwards as the stench of a multitude of vegetables invaded my olfactory senses. As quickly as I could, I opened up the second box and was warmly greeted by meaty toppings.
As I delved into the pizza, my taste buds leaped for joy (not literally). In between breaths, I looked to my friends, who were unhappily pecking away at their veggie pizza. I extended them an olive branch to come and enjoy some of my meat, which they rapidly clamored for.
It was a successful unvegan night, worthy of Cicero himself, and the pizza wasn’t half-bad.