Hungover couldn’t describe Teiho well enough as he stood within the pizza parlor on 5th Street. The owner Enil obviously couldn’t take social cues from the people around him as he continue to drone on and on about proper precautions and getting the orders to the right customers houses. Didn’t he know it was impolite to speak loudly near someone who was suffering a headache. Didn’t he realize that Teiho had asked him for some sort of painkiller at least four times already.

Groaning for what felt like the ninetieth time that morning, Teiho shuffled over to the kitchen, ensuring that he washed his hands in warm soapy water. The faucet, your typical kitchen faucet, had a deep basin for washing dishes and the like, and thus made a heavy echoing thudding sound as the water poured onto it’s metal surface. Grimacing at the sound, he’d quickly shut off the spout, his face scrunched up in pain and irritation as he looked over the list of orders. A sort of pit formed in his stomach as he read and reread the amount of work he’d have to perform today. A quick eye roll, and a shuffle of feet brought him in front of the oven, already changing the settings to the necessary temperatures and cook times. He would obviously have to prepare the dough first before he did anything else, but checking to make sure that Enil actually had toppings to cook with wouldn’t hurt one bit.

Picking up a nearby clipboard, he’d begin to take stock, ensuring that all of the meats and vegetables were properly accounted for and in appropriate amounts for the orders that were requested. Tilting his head at the amount of mozzarella that was out for use, he’d let out another groan of irritation, dreading stepping foot into the freezer. He’d yell out for Enil instead but it seemed the man had allowed himself to be distracted with whatever contraption he had found around the shop. Rubbing his face, he’d throw the clipboard on the counter before walking over the to the freezer and yanking the door open. He was greeted with a blast of cold air that definitely belonged somewhere in Seven or Iceberg. Shivering, he’d shake his head and walk over to the large boxes of bagged up cheese before stabbing his hand into the cardboard so he could carry it out. Pausing for a moment, he considered grabbing a new can of tomato sauce. Figuring that more couldn’t hurt, he’d turn and grab a can off the shelf as well before walking out of the freezer and shutting the door behind himself.

Stepping back into the kitchen, he’d walk over to the prep table and slam the can onto the counter. The karma from his action was instant as he bent over and grabbed his forehead in pain before cursing in his native tongue. This job actually sucked something fierce, but it was all for the jewels. He’d just have to repeat this mantra over and over until the job stopped sucking. Sadly it seemed it wouldn’t stop sucking for quite some time.

521/1000

A grimace crossed his face as he kneaded the needed dough for the orders he was completing, arms flexing as he twisted and turned the malleable flour into something edible. Of course without the sauce, toppings or cheese all it was, was a flattened piece of dough, but trade secrets. Taking a gander at the list of pies that he’d have to make, he’d start with the easiest and work his way down. Scoffing at the first pie, he’d dip a ladle into the sauce, gathering up the appropriate amount before dropping it onto the prepared dough and swirling it about in a circle motion until the sauce was evenly distributed. Sliding down the prep line from there, he’d fill a cup with mozzarella before tipping it to the side and shaking the cheese out over the lathered sauce. He’d place his opposite hand over the top of the cup to make sure not too much cheese was let out with each shake. He’d repeat this process with the next three pies, all of them in varying amounts due to the orders themselves, but once he was finished, he’d toss the cup back into the tray and slide all four pies down the line towards the toppings.

Picking up another cup, to keep things from mixing, he would dip it into the bin with pineapples in it, already sliced and kept cool to maintain freshness. Scooping out the appropriate amount, he would then drizzle and drop them all over the first cheese covered pie, making sure that the amount was spread evenly throughout as to avoid oversaturation of the toppings. Dropping the cup in a bin along with the cup he had used for the cheese, he reached over and grabbed yet another cup to be used for collecting and spreading the ham. He would once again swirl the cup around, tipping it so that the ham could drop over the pie evenly matching the amount of pineapples on the pie. Once he was finished he would slide the pie along and dip the cup into the ham again before sprinkling more ham on two other cheese covered pies. Throwing the cup into the bin along with the other used cups afterwards, he’d then proceed to repeat this process with three other meats as well as chicken for the last pie. Seeing that he had everything done for the pizza’s, he’d carry them over to the oven before sliding them in one after another followed by a tray of five orders of flavored chicken wings.

Using the time that the oven would give him to clean up his station, he’d wipe down the production line and clean the dishes before heading over to the oven and taking the pies and chicken out of the oven just as they were finishing their cook cycle. Boxing and bagging each of the orders, he would take all of the bags with him on his deliveries, the addresses already given to him by Enil at the start of his shift. The deliveries were easy and he was even tipped for a job well done. Returning to the shop, he received his pay before going on with his day, the jewels jingling about in his pocket putting some pep in his step knowing that he would have some drinking money for the next day.

[Exit]

1080/1000