Venison Pizza, Anybody?

(Since our grocery store is undergoing a remodel, the bosses decide to ship the members of my department to another store to learn all the new stations and recipes we will need. This results in three of us — a female coworker, a male coworker, and me — having to drive an hour and a half to the other store and back via two rural highways for five days straight. My female coworker has never driven in her 30+ years and is an interesting passenger at best. She’s also not the brightest bulb. Being the driver and having to leave well before sunup, I’ve seen plenty of road-kill during our trip, though it was mostly smaller critters — rabbits, coyotes — but on the third day, we encounter a bloody mess that would do any horror movie proud. Best guess is that an 18-wheeler hit a deer because there is blood and matter spattered across both lanes of the highway, with brown furred chunks big enough they actually cause a speed bump effect on my little car. My female coworker happens to be in the passenger’s seat and gets a high-beam-lit view of the carnage before it passes under the car and I exclaim.)

Me: “What a mess!”

Coworker: “Was that a pizza?”

Me: “What?! No! That was a deer or something!”

Coworker: “Oh! I thought it was a pizza that fell out the back of a truck.”

(According to my male coworker the ignorance of this statement was enough to wake him up, and we spent the rest of the week asking if any random mess was pizza.)