Pizza on the Brain
#1 of Pizza on the Brain
Inspired by Graveyard Greg's "Welcome to Frappuchino's!" series' story structure, I have created my own episodic romance, delivered to you thrice weekly (MWF) in bite-sized chunks, on both FA and YS! Narrated principally by the two main characters (they'll usually alternate narration duties), this tale of seeking and finding in the anything-can-happen milieu of college is sure to touch your hearts--test audiences have found it quite appetizing (pun quite possibly intended)!
Yiffstar's 5000-character minimum means that I may include extra material in these posts, compared to the FA versions. Follow the story here if you're big on the extra-gravy idea!
Bon appetit!
 It was the middle of Biology 111B, Winter Quarter. We'd been studying genetic diseases, the basis of inherited problems, stuff like that. I hadn't expected anything out of the ordinary.
 In fact, the quarter so far was painfully ordinary. For the third time, a guy I'd approached for being hot had turned out to have a girlfriend already. Two of 'em were pretty cool about it, but the third, well...I was glad he wasn't in any of my other classes, because he just about went thermonuclear. A little homophobic, methinks.
 But what was I to do? I'm a lit major; I'm all but prisoner to the hundreds of romantic plots I've devoured in my reading, whether for classes or for leisure. I kept hoping Prince Charming would walk into my life, despite my sardonic side berating me constantly for my naivete.
 I sighed. Being imaginative is often the demise of the romantic.
 The lecture, of course, went on without me. Were this not a course in the general education section, I wouldn't be here...biology was no more related to my major than underwater basket-weaving, but compared to chemistry and astronomy it seemed like a bit of a shoo-in. Stars rarely did anything to affect us, and breathing toxic fumes wasn't really up my alley either--but learning about life seemed a lot more useful, and for that matter, probably more interesting. I desperately hoped this was true, as I was frequently bored out of my mind in these lectures.
 The professor put up an image of a rat. He was wearing a curious foldy, knotty belt of some kind, but at the time the immediate observation was that he was absolutely huge. Jabba the Ratt. Rattus giganticus. Rodent, super-sized. His rolls had all but devoured the belt-thing.
 "This is an ob/ob-negative rat," said Professor Winkles. "As you can see, he's grossly obese. The gene appears to have a role in weight management, hunger--or as we call it, satiety--and fat accumulation. The complete lack of this gene--which is what we call the ob/ob-negative 'genotype'--has led to way out-of-control weight gain, which is what we call the, ah, 'phenotype' of that genetic condition.
 "Fortunately, he was able to make the most of his mutation, and became a sumo wrestler."
 Lucky him. What else would you do with a rat that size? Send him off to the Macro Continent and let him fend for himself?
 "When genes like this fail and things get disregulated, we see situations spiral out of control like this. Sometimes it's fat, other times it's random proteins that mess up your body's ability to function, and occasionally it's something else entirely. Today we are fortunate to have an example that isn't just a picture on the overhead--I'll go call him in now, so sit tight."
 He went to the door. Scattered murmurs started up around the classroom. The professor poked his head out the door and spoke to someone in the hallway, then held the door open.
 In walked the most glorious specimen of masculine canine might my eyes had ever beheld. My jaw literally fell open, slack as the drapes at my grandmother's house. I estimated he was somewhere above 6'6", but he had to weigh at least 300 pounds--and not a scrap of it was fat. Every muscle stood out in sculpture-like relief. Only his fur softened the angles of chiseled tissue beneath.
 And that was where he had fur! In my staggered awe I realized that he was wearing a muscle top (how apropos), and from the tensed neckline I could see he had armor-like plates along his front side. My eyes flew to his face and noted the spikes along the angle of his jaw, and the horns protruding from his skull--this awe-inspiring fellow wasn't just a wolf; he was part dragon, to boot! How exotic...even his markings were unusual; his face held sections of an electric blue tint that went well beyond the typical off-color masks of wolves, and yet it added a vivacity to the dark tone of his pelt in a totally unique way...
 Professor Winkles was talking, but I didn't hear a word of it. My attention was wholly fixated upon his show-and-tell subject.Â
 So it came as a miraculous surprise when I heard a guy down my row say to his buddy, "hey, I know that guy--he works at that one pizza place!"
 I had a feeling I'd be eating a lot more pizza in the near future.