“Is there anyone else here who might have ordered it?” the driver asked insistently. “No,” Paul snapped. “There isn’t. That’s definitely not mine. I don’t even like pizza. I’m lactose intolerant.” I hoped Paul shit his pants right then and there just from the smell of the cheese. “Oh, damn. You are?” the driver asked casually. “That sucks so much. Cheese is the best. Like, it’s actually my favorite thing in the world. But it gives you the farts, huh? Or the squirts?”
HELP
