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!!bbGklDAv83w 11/02/11(Wed)15:36 No.16819230You don't need to get mixed up in this shit. You already felt paranoid after talking to those cops once before. You don't need the hassle of checking behind you everywhere you go. Pulling up the collar of your coat, you move past, trying not to draw their attention.
The rest of the walk is normal as hell. New York City's adjusted pretty quickly to this, you figure. People are still going to work. Still eating. Hate crimes are up, of course. And emergency room visits. But for all intents and purposes, it's still New York.
The clouds begin to sprinkle a bit of rain, and you jog lightly the rest of the way. When you get there, you see the new window in place, the cartoonish Pizza Chef painted back on in fresh new paint. Today's the first day back open since the damage, and you hope business keeps up. If not, you might be out of a job. The money from John is sitting well in your bank, and has been of use, but without a steady income, it won't last long.
It seems things are okay though, as you can see some people inside already, chowing down pepperoni, sausage, extra cheese, veggie lover, meat lover, ham and pineapple. God damn, there are a lot of people. A lot! Why's it so busy all of a sudden? You press against the window, trying to get a good look. Aside from the people eating in the booths, there's a small crowd gathered around someone near the front. Who the hell is he?
The front door jingles the same old toll as usual, and no one even turns to look. They're all just chattering away. You even see the flashes of cameras. Bustling through the crowd, you try to get back behind the counter. It's a tough fit, but you squeeze through, pushing past a fat old woman who scolds you. Fuck her old ass, you're trying to work.
>Continued. |