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    Pepperoni Extremism

    | Georgia, USA |

    (I’ve just finished giving a guy his pizza when he notices my car in the driveway.)

    Customer: “That your car?”

    Me: “Yes, it is. You like it?”

    Customer: “Yeah! Mind if I go look at it?”

    Me: “Sure. I’ll show you around it.”

    (We get there and he studies the decals in my window. I have an “Obama ’08″ button on the back of my headrest.)

    Customer: *gasps* “Are you a terrorist?”

    Me: “What?”

    Customer: “Don’t play dumb with me! You’re a terrorist!”

    Me: “What are you talking about?!”

    Customer: “You’re a terrorist and you voted for a terrorist for president!”

    Me: “Sir, I can assure you that our president is not a terrorist.”

    Customer: “But he is! He’s not American! He’s an illegal immigrant!”

    Me: “Sir, why would we have an illegal immigrant terrorist as president if the government were on his side?”

    Customer: *gasps again* “You’re right! Everyone’s a terrorist!”

    Me: “No, no, no! They’re not terrorists!”

    Customer: “You’re on their side?! Don’t kill me!”

    Me: *giving up* “Yes, I’m a terrorist.”

    (The customer screams and runs inside. A few moments later, the pizza falls out a second story window.)