“I don’t know what kind of pizza this is, but good god, it’s bad.” He curls his lip and drops it back onto his plate. Poor bastard can’t even get a decent pizza in this place. I think of all the things I’ve served him up to eat over the last few weeks and I can’t hide my smile. “What’s so funny?” he asks dryly. “You are a food snob.” “I…” his eyebrows flick up as he searches for a comeback, “…openly admit that I prefer edible food.” I get the giggles.
