A Hot Slice Of Justice, Part 11

Jerk, Karma/Comeuppance, Parents/Guardians, Police, USA, Wild & Unruly | Right | August 8, 2025

This story is from 1991. I answer a call at home.

Me: “Hello?”

Customer: “Yeah, I want about four pepperoni personal pizzas and a two-liter Coke. How much is it?”

Me: “This isn’t [Pizza Place], sir. You’ve got the wrong number.”

This is a very small town, so I knew which pizza place he wanted to call from his order.

Customer: “I don’t give a s*** if you’re busy, just take my d*** order!”

Me: “Uh… this isn’t [Pizza Place].”

Customer: “F*** you, kid! Get your god-d*** manager on the phone! F****** moron!”

I just stared at the receiver. This was not the usual confused apology-and-hang-up wrong number. So, I set the phone on the counter and ran downstairs to my dad’s workshop.

Me: “Dad, you gotta take this one. This guy is losing it.”

Dad: *Grinning.* “Alright, son, I’ll handle it.”

I grabbed the second line in the kitchen to listen in.

Dad: “Hello?”

Customer: “Yeah, like I told the dumb-a** kid, I want four pepperoni personal pizzas and a two-liter Coke!”

Dad: “Yeah, not gonna happen, ‘cause this isn’t [Pizza Place].”

Customer: “What the f***?! Are all you mother-f*****s stupid there? I’m coming down there, and you better have my stuff ready!”

Dad: “They won’t have it ready, moron, because you called the wrong number.” *Chuckling.*

Customer: “F*** you, pal! I say screw the pizza! Now I wanna kick some a**! How about I come to your place instead?”

Dad: “I’d give you directions, but you’ll never figure out how to get here.”

Customer: “How you figure that, smart guy?!”

Dad: “You can’t even string seven numbers in a row correctly.” *Laughs harder.*

Customer: “F*** you!”

Dad: “Good luck, dip-s***!” *SLAM!*

There’s nothing like the sweet sound of a rotary phone slamming into the cradle.

Dad immediately called the operator to block the number, then phoned a buddy on the local police force, and finally called the actual pizza place to give them a heads-up.

Sure enough, a little while later, the guy stormed into the pizza place demanding his four pepperoni personal pizzas and a two-liter Coke. An officer was already waiting in the back.

It was a small-town legend for a week. To this day, we still joke about “Dad’s wrong-number pizza order beatdown.”

I miss you, Old Man.