Hold The Garlic Bread

(I work the late shift at a pizza parlor, and am taking over delivery for a sick coworker instead of working the register as I usually do. I cycle up to the apartment that’s listed on the bill and knock on their door. The customer doesn’t answer so I knock harder.)

Me: “Your pizza’s here!”

(The door slowly creaks open. The lights are all off, almost like a horror movie, and I take a step back in surprise.)

Me: “Uhm… hello?”

(Unnerved, I turn to get the heck out of there, when I hear something moving. I look back in the house, and some guy is standing there, nearly invisible in the dark.)

Me: “Oh, haha, I didn’t see you there. Here’s your pizza, sir. You ordered online, so you’re good to go!”

Customer: “Who darez to tahlk to ze Count in zees mannehr?!”

(I realize that he’s wearing a full Dracula costume, complete with bloody fangs and a cape. He’s staring at me with Bela Lugosi’s signature death glare.)

Me: “Uh… Frank, the pizza delivery guy?”

Customer: “…”

Me: “…”

Customer: “Dihd you breeng extra ov zee leetle sauce packeets for ze breedsteecks?”

Me: “Uh… yeah, yeah, they should be in the box.”

Customer: “Exceeleent! Have a vunderful night, my child!”

(The customer slams the door closed.)

Me: “What just happened?”