It was around 3:00am when the last call-in order of the night was phoned in. The order was for one large cheese pizza. The date was January 14, 2012. As the delivery boy stumbled through the front door, furiously blowing on his hands to warm them up, the new pizza was being thrown into the oven.
“This is your last order of the night.”
The delivery boy quickly shot up at the sound of this. It had been a long night. Earlier in the night it had begun to storm here in Happy Valley. Between the harsh and howling winds and the small specks of snow whizzing through the air, the pizza boy’s face was left scarred and red. Streaks of wind burn glowed on his cheeks like hot metal over a fire. His left shoe had a hole in it, no doubt a result of having to trek up and down hills and across the campus that is University Park. This boy is nothing short of a modern day hero. Facing the harshest weather this winter has yet to bear, at an hour when no man should be awake, simply to deliver a fresh out-of-the-oven pizza to the drunk and belligerent crowd of students scattered across town.
“What’s the address on the delivery?”
“Hoyt Hall, right across from Redifer commons. They said they would meet you at the door to the building. And don’t bother coming back in, just deliver the pizza and you free to head home.”
The pizza boy tried his best to hold onto the cardboard box with is fingers. He braced himself to step out into the streets of downtown State College that had recently transformed into an arctic tundra. His fingers were numb and stiff from the cold. As much as he wanted to turn around, run back into the pizza shop and curl up next to the warmth of the oven, he knew he had no choice. This was his job and he was going to finish it. One more pizza. One more delivery.
Within five minutes he was parking his car at Redifer Commons. He couldn’t help but think to himself “Man, it’s amazing how fast you can get around town at 3:00am. This might be the quickest delivery ever.”
Not sure where exactly the Hoyt building was, the pizza boy had to do a few 360s in order to find his bearings. He was lost in a sea of what appeared to be crumbling brick towers. The red from the clay in the bricks reflected off the street lights, giving everything an orange tinge. Almost like the color of blood when you mix it with water. He could hear a few drunk students off in the distance, but there was no one near enough to ask for directions. He began walking through the dark of the night, hoping to catch a glimmer of the silver letters attached to the sides of the buildings surrounding him. The hole in his shoe tore a little bit more with each and every step. His feet were numb, his hands were numb, his face was burnt.
Then, no more than 30 yards ahead of him he could see what appeared to be a group of four men making their way in his direction. “Yes, finally someone who can help me.”
He could tell they were wearing hoods so it was hard to make out their complexions. They were only a few yards away now. As they neared closer to him he could hear them mumbling amongst themselves. Then, the tallest one of the group stepped forward.
“You gotta wallet on you?”
http://www.collegian.psu.edu/archive/2012/01/17/delivery_driver_attacked_.aspx
I really love how this piece starts out with the pizza. Not with one of the perps or the victims or the weather. But with the pizza and the facts and then it unfolds from there into the action, the dialogue hitting start on the narration like a stopwatch, in a way. It all starts with the pizza though, which was a really fun move.
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