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[Jan. 16th, 2008|08:12 pm] |
Who: Gilbert and Spairn
What: Pizza delivery to a naked man!
Where: Gilbert's flat.
Warnings: Not sure. Uh, language? Nudity.
Spairn was definitely not the person to send out for pizza when the only stipulation on what Gilbert wanted was 'no anchovies'. He'd come away with extra cheese, sausage, pepperoni, mushrooms, black and green olives, bell peppers, bacon and red onions to top it all off. There was probably more, but by the time he was in the tiny foyer of the man's apartment building he had forgotten. Anchovies were gross anyway.
There was a security lock on the second door in, but some very sweet little old lady had let him in when she went out looking for her cats. So much for attempting to remember Gilbert's last name - and did he really have to call the guy Gilbert? Couldn't he say 'Gil'? Totally unprofessional, of course, but that was Spairn all over.
He took the stairs two at a time, reading the address off of his palm just to make sure he had the location down and quickly turned into the door with the large number eight stenciled on. Someone was cooking with the door open, or something, because he could smell it all the way down the hall the moment he stepped in and - hey, that was convenient, Gil's door was a short distance away. Closed. Probably for the best.
"Pizza boy!" He called out as he rapped his knuckles along the door, grinning to himself. He'd said this was like a bad porn, hadn't he? All he needed was the baseball cap with the slice of pepperoni on the front. |
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