Pizza

I stayed with a guy named Dave. He gave me food that he called pizza. He didn’t make it himself. He called somebody that came over and handed it off to him. He let me sleep on his floor because the couch was occupied.
 
I asked him what he wanted to do before he died and his answer was “have fun.” So I asked him what his number one priority today was and he said “pizza.” I tasted the different kinds of pizzas that he was kindly sharing with me and asked another of my regular questions. “What has been your favorite age and why?” He replied “now, because pizza” I continued with “do you want your children to be like you?” He told me to eat my pizza and be silent otherwise he would throw me out. He reminds me of one of the inbaked pizzas he fed me. Crusty on the outside but soft on the inside.