We thought pizza would be a good idea, so Brian went and got pizza.
Except he got there, and it was wrong. So they made another, and told him to keep the first, too.
Except the second one was still slightly wrong.
So he came home anyway, with two slightly-wrong pizzas. Well, I should clarify a bit. His half of the pizzas were wrong. Mine were right.
Except for the lack of sauce. Which wasn’t apparent cause it wasn’t red sauce.
And now I feel sick after eating the pizza anyway, and we have a whole pizza and a half still to eat, and the last thing I want is more of that pizza. Pretty much ever.