The Search for Pizza
This was written when I was 14 years old.
Jerry and Lon were out of a job. As much as they both hated to admit it, perhaps the comic book business, just wasn't right for them. At least that was what their last manger had told wacko story creator and writer Jerry, and also his friend and a accomplished, er, artist Lon. It wasn't that the public didn't care about Gib the cat and his owner, An, said the manager of Hee Roe publishing, they just didn't like Jerry's style. Maybe it was the open, teasing mood every story took, their former boss told them apologetically, or maybe it was the rather odd choice of story material, but the books just weren't selling. An and Gib would have to go, and so would Lon and Jerry.
"So, what do we do now?" asked Jerry, looking to Lon as usual for help.
"Pizza," Lon replied decidedly. It was good to be able to act decisively.
"Gee, Lon, you always know what to do." Lon merely maintained his character-concealing poker face and led the way down to Haight Street. Neither cartoonist knew much about Berkeley, so when the semicircle cut into twelve pieces on the sign above a store, they went in.
"Gee, a lot of bicyclists come to eat here," remarked Jerry. "They must make good pizza to go." Lon looked around at the myriad of bicycles he had referred to, and opened his mouth to reply, when the gangly youth at the counter turned down the radio and asked,
"So what'll it be? A Univega? A Schwinn? Or maybe just new spokes?"
"No, actually I think we'll just have pepperoni and olives, said Jerry, already imagining a steaming piece of rubbery cheese combined with squishy half baked pizza dough and black crunchy olives. He licked his lips.
"You, idiot!" Lon whispered deafeningly, and hitting him on the side of his head on his moussed dirty blond hair. "This is a bicycle shop." Lon wiped his now greasy hand on his navy slacks while Jerry cringed. Turning to leave, Lon yelled back to the clerk at the counter, "Never mind!" Form then on, that became the motto land creed of Lon and Jerry's cartoons and relationship, although they did eventually find the pizza shop.
"I can smell it!," yelled the ecstatic Jerry into Lon's ear. Lon hist him again, although this time on jerry's gray-root bear- stained T-shirt to avoid his hair.
"DON"T YELL!" hollered Lon. Jerry merely whispered and pointed, to a big flashing sign saying, "PIZZA" the two rushed hungrily to the shops door and shoved their way to the counter. Truly, they were not mistaken; this was the long-searched for pizza parlor.