It wasn't until I'd consumed it that I realized what was happening. Tom heartily recommended the new bread-disc, imploring I buy it with gusto:
"Pete this triple layer, cheese, anchovy, jalapeno, ape and pepperoni monster will be the takeaway of your life. They put cayenne in the tomato puree and man...just buy it. Gotta be tasted to be believed."
It's hardly common for that man to grant such an endorsement, and the next day I phoned up and got a jumbo 14" , the guy over the phone even said; 'We think you're gonna love it' - nobody ever said that to me in my illustrious history of calling up for food to my door! My heart did a little jump of the sort you get when for just a moment you swear you found a premium Ron Jeremy classic clip, or Heaven 17's 'Temptation' starting to play at a club as you instinctly haul your drunken, middle-aged self onto the dance floor for some old school self-embarassment for you and those around you - quality heartjumping you know?
I wasn't letting this occasion pass me by without making it memorable. I pulled out my deceased grandmother's candlelabra and stuck it onto the table together with purple wax scented candles I'd gotten from some hippy place in Camden years back. As I lit them and the lavender hit my nostrils it only accentuated the splendid truth that the pizza would soon arrive...
I texted Tom and a few other friends on my HTC Android, saying that some detailed pics of my consuming the bread mass and topping would follow. A simple smiley emoticon from Tom was the reply, but Tim from sports desk said...
"Pete I don't even wans to think abut your wrinkled visage and yellow-teeth digging into some pizza some guy told you was legendary. Get a grip or just put the pic on Facebook like any other conceited moron would. Or Digg...you'd probably get dugg 300 times minimum."
Bastard. Trying to rain on the parade - but there was the doorbell! I answered it, and a smiling young chap at the door said 'Hi that'll be £11.99 and here's a free bottle of Coke'.
I eagerly took the box and cola, handed over the exact change which was already prepared at the porch. The thought of the spicy clash of cayenne, jalapeno, salted ape and more was becoming less pleasent anticipation and more torture. I took my time putting the box by the table...relishing the prospect of chomping it down with abandon.
Then I opened the box......there was a 14 inch pizza but it was mere cheese and tomato! Cheese and tomato! That was it - bog-standard bullshit that I only bought in my student years due to financial stress!! An insult! Insult!
Like Tommy Wiseau in The Room I cried out a terrible and gargly cry and began a slow-paced trashing of my living room. The TV, a lovely Toshiba, went out of the window - my signed picture of Steven Jobs was smashed (later received a new frame), and I smeared the pizza over my sofa to devastating effect. The anger subsided...and although I managed to put together an omelette that night, these pizza woes will never leave me...I left a one-star review for the London Hell Pizza branch, and threatened legal action should my Android number ever find its way into some pranker's greasy mitts.