“Another-world, Another-time, you mediocre-quad…!!!”

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PAUL’S EYES OPENED AND STARED at the bare ceiling above, in his windowless room. He realised he had fallen INTO A NAP – that the ‘bad-aura’ of his twin had come-in ‘backdoor’ of his kip consciousness to give him a nightmare…

… that he HAD ‘SEDUCED’ JANE, in the Walkers house.

He was angry at his twin – for the covetous emos…

‘… Peter, you one-armed bandit – GOOD-LUCK is always ‘hovering’ over you, like a halo – wherever you ‘bloody-go,’ YOU GET THE GIRLS – and ‘other’ prezzies too, like your Pete2.0… ‘that’ is a down-right white-elephant in YOUR SCHOOLING CAREER, as you are ‘not’ bloody interested in studying – I wish that THAT-DEVICE WAS ‘MINE’ instead… I would ‘not’ bloody rely ON ANYBODY TO do Math…

‘… but Pete2.0 is YOURS… EVEN JANE…

‘… she still HAS ‘FEELINGS’ for you…’

The crippled-Paul sighed deep – ‘feeling-low’…

… from his rung of a cuckold boyfriend…

… feeling depressed – he needed his ‘distraction’ – his inter-worlds’ ‘escapism’ – which was his addiction of episodic-doses of Korean tragic drama…

Paul grabbed his iPad and went to YouTube to search from which episode of Season-2 that he last left-off since he was ‘interrupted’ back then -- by the stormy-Monday night’s black panther-mission…

… Paul was ‘frustrated’ as he could ‘not’ find the Asian movie channel – that feature those mainland Korean-dramas – as it was now flagged-down-and-pulled-down for copyright infringement by YouTube…

… neither could he remember the title of the show – as the Asian ‘common-name-titles’ were ‘too’ generic for online search-engine searches…

… or else, as a last resort – he could look it up in the ‘downloads’ from torrent-sites – whereas he ‘last’ checked, it was ‘not’ available in Netflix.

Paul laid-back on his pillow, looking up at the ceiling, searching for ‘other’ options of escapism. His tummy growled in hunger…

… reminding him that he had mere SAO-crackers dip in marmalade jam for lunch.

Looking at the alarm clock – it was ONLY 4:11 PM – too early for ordering his $20-dinner, but-also ‘nothing’ to eat for teatime…

‘… ‘nothing’ in the fridge either – except for the ‘rotting-corpses’…’

… a reference to his mom’s salads in the chiller, that had gone bad – where instead of disposing of it – he covered them with a black-trash-bag as-like of a coroner’s body-bag.

He was ‘about-to’ levitate-up from the bed and go to the kitchen for a final look-see – and to salvage whatever hope-to-find something to eat, by searching again at the high closets…

… for whatever hidden-edible that his mom ‘had’ stashed-away somewhere…

His iPhone rang…

… his phantom-backbone-limb ‘straightened’ – when he was surprised to look…

… at Jane’s name AT THE CALLER-ID...

‘… what do YOU WANT, Jane – you always call me ‘when’ you ‘need’ something…?’

Jane called and checked on him – Paul too heard ‘her’ troubled voice…

-O-

“I did ‘not’ call you last night because I had an argument with my mummy…”

Soon…

… with his heart ‘mellowed’ out of jealousy – Paul was back showing concern as her-boyfriend – furthermore, he was curious of ‘what’ the bully doctor-mom ‘did’ to the B-girl.

“What happened, dear…?”

“… and she then came over to me, and confiscated my Samsung by snatching it from my hand – I had to wait until my father came home, but he was late as usual… and, I got sleepy then – I only got my phone back this morning from daddy…”

“Whoa, what was your mom’s gripe-of-the-day with you was-about, last night…?”

“… the usual things – in fact, I argued that I am ‘not’ going to take the ‘blood-test’ – let alone, my monthly-period that is exhausting my mental-focus in studies…”

“… huh… ‘what’ blood-test, Jane…?”

“What? You don’t know – didn’t your mom tell you…?”

“… huh… my-mom tell me ‘what’…?”

“It’s my Uncle Jack – he had sent his Kimura-Star’s medical technicians HERE TO PERTH to ‘test-our-blood,’ just like in the ‘other-Perth…”

‘… the Hawaiian-shirt Japanese-Americans – Hiro & Taro – are ‘back’ again…

‘… THE LAST-TIME, the duo confirmed that Peter’s BLOOD ‘HAD’ CHANGED its rhesus from Group-B to a unique-and-rare type of the Golden-blood – and, before the Americans left -- Peter got a prezzie too…

… his robotic-arm.’

“… when…? When are they coming…?”

“Sunday-tomorrow…”

Back in the other-Perth, Paul did ‘NOT’ PARTICIPATE by getting his blood-tested – fearing that his DNA had possibly ‘changed’ of being-a-supe’s – after being struck by ‘the cursed’ lightning days-ago, in the Treeton-farm.

On that-given Sunday, at the Walkers – Peter ‘humiliated’ Paul – in front of his then ‘girlfriend, Alicia – that he was a coward-with-needles.

NOW… Sunday-tomorrow…

… Peter & Jane, would HAVE THEIR BLOOD TESTED again – Paul was contemplating whether he ‘should’ participate or ‘not’ decisions…

‘… what have I GOT TO LOSE, Peter – to bloody prove to you that – I’m ‘never’ the cuckold boyfriend …!!?’

“YES, COMING!”

THE BLIND-GIRL’S YELLING -- ‘broke’ Paul’s antagonistic reverie with his-twin…

“I got to go, Pauly – Lola is calling me for teatime… I’ll call you later…”

“Yes, Jane – please do so… I need help in Ms Bloom’s Math homework…”

He heard her giggle…

…teasing him… “… sure… kissykissy, my love…”

The blind-girl hung-up – with her BOYFRIEND REGRETTING…

… who had ‘misjudged’ her since she had ‘not’ called him in yesterday’s Friday evening…

… the negative-vibes that HE HAD ‘SHARED’ in-transmission with Jane – WAS ‘WHEN’ she fought with her intimidating doctor-mother – NOT…

… that she ‘HAD’ FAVOURED the red-beacon than the blue-bacon – AS HER MATE…

… where, it resulted in PAUL MISUNDERSTING HER – by ‘beating-himself up’ silly and unnecessary all-evening – with his heart-and-mind…

… both brewing a stew-pot – filled with the broth in negative emotions…

… of jealousy, rage and vengeance…

-O-

ON THE BED, Paul was ‘relieved’ and laughed at his ‘mistake’…

‘… my devil-twin – YOU ARE ‘NOT’ getting my-girl…!’

He then thought of Caroline – ‘their’ inspector-mother…

… whom he had not’ spoken-nor-seen for the past 6 days – where she had ‘not’ told him that tomorrow was the blood-test by Jane’s Uncle Jack…

‘… huh… how’ did this scientist-UNCLE ‘KNOW’ – while back at the other-Perth…

‘… Jane ‘contacted’ him her ‘mentor’ and told of the Treeton-incident – ‘where’ Dr Jack Turner had then sent Hiro-and-Taro over TO ‘TEST’ Their blood, and ‘answer’ some quirky questionaries…

‘… now-how, in this post-Treeton Perth, did Dr Jack ‘KNOW’ TO SEND Hiro-and-Taro over…?’

Paul ‘suspected’ Peter…

… in his mind, he pictured himself in his wheelchair at the centre aisle at a crowded St Michael’s church, with Alicia in a Buddhist-monk robe, was in the altar’s lectern, preaching…

“O’ Poe-pee-Poe… Peter ‘BEAT’ YOU AGAIN – by obeying the #1 Rule of Bible101 – which is…

“… Ask and You Will Receive – as Peter asked Dr Turner for Pete2.0, AND HE GOT IT – that ‘had’ made him ‘ambitious’ where…

“The More He Asked – The More He Got…

“… Soon, Peter Would Seek… And, Peter Will Find His Path…”

The congregation of St Michael were agitated by the sight of a ‘foreign’ religion-person was preaching a twisted-gospel of the their-own book at them – the crowd in pews were spewing racial insults and threw their bibles at Alicia, calling her a witch who had mastered the heretic black-arts…

… in the unruly and antagonist crowd, on his wheelchair Paul cried out…

“Ali! Where is Peter’s ‘path’…? Where is he going…? What is he ‘going’ to do next…!!?”

Paul saw the Chinese girl shielding her face at the missiles thrown like shoes and plastic water bottles – until an old-bounded hard-covered bible hit her forehead…

… knocking her over, to hit again when her head hard on the floor – leaving her a concussion that led to a coma…

Paul cried out…

“ALLLIIEEE!!!”

Paul ‘opened’ his eyes…

-O-

He realised it was just a nightmarish-dream of his nap – where he took…

… after Jane called him just now – and to suppress his hunger – he continued-on with the nap…

‘… she was going for her tea – WHILE ME – nothing, the cupboards and fridge are bare – foodless…’

Paul regained most of his conscious and sat-up – and thought about the WEIRD DREAM – where the St Michael’s congregation ‘attacked’ Alicia at the altar – for sacrilegious point-of-view…

He did ‘not’ get an answer from that dream…

… nor could he figure, what his dark Gemini-half was UP-TO ‘NEXT’ – as his ‘path’ was mysterious in this post-Treeton Perth-earth…

Paul ‘realised’ something significant in ‘his’ M.O. too…

‘… but good-luck is with you ‘here,’ just like in Perthland – you get the girls – and you ‘get’ whatever you ‘want’ – because you ‘get’ whatever you ‘ask’… and ‘even’ more…’

… sighing-deep…

Paul thought again of Alicia – and, as a Catholic – he mumbled a short prayer to his Guardian angel for his ex-girlfriend’s safety, from any harm – either…

… human nor ‘supernatural’...

… he looked at the alarm-clock…

-O-

… it was 5:03 PM – still too early to order dinner…

Paul wanted to call food at 6 – in the meanwhile, he decided to lock himself up in his room, and ‘not’ going to the kitchen, where he ‘would’ feel hungrier in the ‘thought’ of food that he ‘once’ ate there…

But his stomach growled with his pang of hunger – as he thought of his poor man's lunch that he ‘had’…

… SAO crackers and black coffee…

One more hour to his regular dinner time – and he still had ‘not’ decided what to eat on his $20 budget…

… which was ‘not’ much…

… the cheapest pizza delivery was between $25-$30…

… so, he had to resort his ‘next’ favourite, which was Asian food delivery – and the BEST VALUE-FOR-MONEY DEAL was the Thai…

‘… I could get that delicious chicken green-curry meal – with additional white rice order – for just under-$18…’

His preference was that he wanted his food steaming-hot like Asians-do – as-taught by a fellow-foodie, and ex-girlfriend – when she took him to her aunt’s Chinatown restaurant…

…so, Paul delayed to ORDER EARLY…

… he drank lots-of-water from his bottle, to suppress his hunger – and into an ‘escapism’ via YouTube – by watching the dance-competitions video.

-O-

In his windowless-room, Paul was fascinated by the Brazilian dancers who incorporated martial-arts to their dance-moves.

The front-door bell rang…

‘… who the f…?’

Paul looked at the alarm-clock – 5:38 PM…

…he hopped-onto the wheelchair – and went out, to answer the door.

Disengaging the security-system, Paul opened the door to the waft of ‘tempting’ gastronomic mouth-watering aroma…

“… Peter Walker…?”

… asked the uniformed Deliveroo rider, who held a large box of pizza…

Paul was dumbfounded, as his ‘protesting’ stomach growled – as he guiltily nodded to ‘steal’ his twin’s identity ‘for’ that moment – but it…

… WAS SHORT-LIVED, when the real McCoy answered…

“Over here!”

… Paul and the delivery-man saw the bare-bodied one-armed Peter in tracky-dax bottoms, running down the stairs in haste – his crippled-twin backed his wheelchair from the door.

The delivery-rider said…

“Your order for a large Australian pizza – additional toppings of extra 4 eggs, and shredded ham…”

“Right-on the-dot, mate!”

At aside, Paul’s mind did Math – calculating the ‘estimated’ cost…

‘… that Beauty is a $30++ creation…’

Paul saw his twin giving $50, saying…

“Keep the change – I ‘understand’ your tough life as a gigger…”

Paul’s jaw dropped to the floor at his twin’s generosity – as his brain did Add-Math…

‘… did the devil just tip him $20…? – that ‘equals’ MY WHOLE-BUDGET of a $20 – for a ‘2nd-choice’ dinner…’

The happy-man thanked back at his one-armed customer's bigheartedness…

“So-kind of you, mate – this street lockdowns should end-fast – this curfew imposed is killing businesses… and us-the-riders ‘suffer’ too…”

“I understand as I stand for the hard-working man, the backbone of Straya’s economy – ‘not’ this bloody-clown jackass of Perth Mayor John Blake – who don’t give 2-shit about ‘our’ sufferings…”

Paul’s jaw dropped again – his mind was paralysed…

… he had completely ‘FORGOTTEN’ ABOUT THE CURFEW enforcement of the last couple of days of the zombie-violence – due to his ignorance of ignoring ‘important Perth’s events’ – and with his complacent procrastinating lifestyle, as home-alone smug ‘loser’…

… who can’t stand up to the test of ‘being’ hunger nor fasting – where he ‘lived’ to eat…

He fast looked at his watch – 5:49 PM.

The man thanked and left to his motorcycle, parked outside the front gate. Peter too raced-up to his bedroom to have his dinner after showing-off with his ‘politician-bullshit-talk’…

… the main door was ‘about’ to close – Paul deflected to keep it open… and shouted…

“Hey-mate, wait up…!”

The man abruptly stopped to see the rushing-tween on his wheelchair approaching – holding-up Jane’s $20 note…

“Do you have an ‘extra’ pizza – I have $20 – I’ll buy it from you!”

The delivery-man chuckled…

“Hey-boy, I just deliver pizzas – I’m ‘not’ a food-truck…”

The desperado-boy ‘bribed’…

“Look-here, mate – JUST ‘SELL-IT’ TO ME – take the money and go back to your-boss and tell them that – you were surrounded by hungry zombies, and you escaped – by throwing slices of the Aussie-pizza at those starving undead…”

The man laughed aloud, while putting-on his helmet…

“I don’t know – I might lose my job if I say something as ‘lame’ as that for a coverup…”

“Please-mate… please…”

The man saw the lame-tween on a wheelchair – ACTING LIKE a desperate zombie driven by hunger.

“Hey, I’m just an honest-delivery guy – if you want a pizza, you call-up Perth-6000-Menulog and place ‘your’ order – and I’ll then deliver it to you, at your doorstep…”

He started his motorbike when Paul clutched the bike’s handlebar – as the boy’s frantic voice blabbered…

“… that Thai food place – do they deliver orders – do the riders come-out while curfew…?”

“I don’t know – but I heard those Thai run the ‘red-light’ in their ‘other’ black-market ops…”

“… so… would they deliver…?”

“How do I know…? I don’t work with some Asian Thai-kitchen, mate – you call them up yourself, and ask…”

The busy-man took-off – riding his bike to ‘deliver’ his last pizza before – curfew time.

Paul looked dazed at him diminishing from his peripheral – as he ‘fantasized’ using his ‘supe-powers’…

… that he flew and hovered like an ariel drone to triangulate the delivery rider's motorcycle – and delivered a small-dose electro-zap onto the guy’s helmet, to knock him out cold. Then, ‘pinch’ the Aussie-pizza from the carrier-warmer at the rear of the Deliveroo motorcycle. And, fly off to somewhere isolated and secluded like King’s Park – and feast the pie on a bench…

… as he ‘DID’ WITH JANE at the ‘other-Perth’ – where they had McDonald’s’ burgers at King’s Park…

… his ‘first-supper-date’ – where he gladly paid $30 for, while they were ‘courting’ – after their school-night-out after midnight mission – to rescue Piper-and-Kitty from the animal hospital…

‘… you-idiot, you’ll BE ‘SPOTTED’ – and someone would ‘now’ take a phone-photo of a flying-cripple with ghoulie legs dangling-behind – and…

‘… ‘WHAT’ GOES OUT of the window, would-be MY WELL-KEPT SECRET IDENTITY to my alter-ego of the Perth-City’s supe, Gemini Blue…’

Paul looked at his watch – 5:52 PM…

… 8 minutes to curfew…

The cripple-tween sighed deep in his-disappointment -- as he had wasted 3 minutes…

… by ‘failing’ to convince the delivery-man to ‘sell’ him a pizza, and further futile-time-waster of fantasizing having ‘supper’ with his girlfriend -- and the worst-of-it ‘was’ – his impromptu harebrained idea of ‘robbing’ the deliver-man of his-pizza as a superhero…

Tick-Tock…

8 minutes to Perth-City’s lockdown at sharp-6 PM – and followed by its curfew…

… 8 precious-minute to contact the Thais – to deliver his ‘well-deserved’ single-meal-of-the-day – of his hot-and-spicy chicken green curry, with double-portion of steamy-rice…

-O-

From outdoor, Paul wheelchaired fast into the house, and locked-up with the security-system…

… tick-tock…5:54 PM…

He needed to contact the Thais – to place his order – before curfew…

… he reached his windowless-room, reached out to his iPad – where the Thai-restaurant contact-details were…

… tick-tock… 5:55 PM…

His heart ‘stopped’ when iPad’s battery-indicator was at red – he had ‘forgotten’ to charge his device, after all morning using it for his Geography homework…

… and dance-videos in YouTube…

… tick-tock… 5:57 PM…

… 3 minutes – to the last-call to order…

He was losing his mind, when he plugged the iPad to charge-mode – he took out his iPhone and then searched for the Thai-food-deal in the Search-engine – and felt like kicking-his-lame arse, for not remembering the ‘name’ of the Thai-restaurant…

… tick-tock… 5:58 PM…

He ‘stood’ levitated from his wheelchair – cursing at the pop-up-ads of tourism -- of ‘Visit Thailand-Year’ appearing algorithmically on the screen – that wanted his ‘attention’ at this crucial time-sensitive moment…

… tick-tock… 5:59 PM…

The front-door BELL-RANG… Paul cursed aloud…

“Who the f… at this hour…!!?”

-O-

Paul left his bedroom, headed to THE MAIN-DOOR – wheelchairing-over in positive hope of a favourable Win-Win outcome, where…

… the Deliveroo rider had to TURN-BACK AT the road-block, with his pizza undelivered…

… and headed to the Walkers – to sell him the pie, AT A ‘DISCOUNT’…

‘… a $30 Beauty ‘sold’ @$20 = a value-for-money deal…!!!’

He disengaged the home security-system – and answered the door…

Lo’ and Behold…

… his jaw dropped, as he saw standing-tall at the ajar-door – was his Stamford High’s Principle Thomas Harris…

“…huh… Principle Harris…? Good evening, Sir…”

“Hello-Paul, your mother ‘told’ me to deliver you-boys your dinner, before the curfew…”

… seeing too that the Good Samaritan was holding 2 large boxes of pizzas from Marciano’s – the Walkers’ favourite and best Italian restaurant in Perth City, where they frequent to celebrate occasions...

The smell and waft of the baked-pies’ pleasant aroma gave Paul a gastronomic-orgasm – his belly bellowed aloud like a desert-creature in Tatooine of The Mandalorian TV-series.

“Principle Harris, did you see my mother…? I have ‘not’ seen her for the 6 days…”

Tom Harris entered the Walker-house, headed to the kitchen with the 2 boxes of pizzas while answering…

“No worries… Caroline is fine, I saw her just ‘now’ – she is working the rabid-bite cases…”

Paul wanted to ask about his classmate Charlotte, who too was bitten at the BTS-concert, days-ago – but refrained…

… as he was even-MORE WORRIED OF HIS-MOM – who was on the front-line of the law, hunting the criminal Hajji – who was ‘creating’ havoc in the Greater Perth City…

In anxiety, he listened to his principal further speak…

“No worries – Carol is coming home-later tonight…”

“… wha… mom is ‘coming’ tonight…?”

“Yes, but… ‘when’ we don’t know – but Carol said-so, that she’s ‘definitely’ coming back later…”

Then, Principal Harris changed the subject – at the sorry-sight of a boy on a wheelchair, who was missing and longing to see his mother, whom he had ‘not’ seen for almost a week.

“Hey-Paul, where is Peter…? Call him over to eat his pizza, while it's hot.”

Paul did ‘not’ want to do ‘that’ – he did ‘not’ want Peter TO SEE THE ‘MAN’ who was seeing their mother behind her sons’ back – where it did ‘not’ end-well in the other-Perth…

… with the partial destruction of Queensland’s Barrier-reefs, resulted in an earthquake caused by his twin’s rage.

… so, Paul ‘lied’ to his principle…

“It’s ‘not’ Peter’s dinner time yet… he’ll come down when he’s hungry…”

‘… maybe ‘not’ – he had already ‘ordered’ an Aussie pizza – these 2 Marciano-Beauties which MOM ‘BOUGHT’ are all-mine…’

“How is he? Is he… ‘behaving’…?” asked the principal.

“Yeah…” Paul nodded with a thumbs-up – as he lied again…

‘… oh-yea, behave my-twin-did while mom wasn’t around – you should see him coming home pissed-drunk on school-night… AND GUESS ‘WHAT’ – that student Bella that you-SHS ‘suspended’ – Peter has been ‘sneaking-out’ in late nights, to have sex with her…’

His reveries of his twin ‘popped’ – when Principle Harris asked…

“Did your mom give you your pocket-money?”

“… huh, no – I did ‘not’ see any credited in my account for the past few days…”

Paul saw his principal who took-out his wallet – and placed 2 $50 notes at the kitchen counter…while saying…

“Paul, haven’t you heard – the whole of Straya’s banking network had been hacked by a Darknet group known ‘New Mexico’? They stole $9-billion of the country’s economy…”

“… huh… they ‘did’ what…?”

“Yes, $9-billion in 4 days – all the online-transactions including your pocket-money that your mom banked-in have all ‘been’ siphoned by this hacker-group – it was all in the news and social media, haven’t you ‘known’ that, Paul?”

The guilty Paul shook his head, with a nervous smile of his ignorance…

… his ‘home-alone’ life WAS REVOLVED in school and homework – and the rest of the time with some ‘guilty-pleasure’ of Netflix and YouTube – with NO ‘INTEREST’ in politics and economical news…

Point-noted…

‘… I should be ‘alert’ OF WHAT IS HAPPENING AT my Perth-backyard – if I want to carry the superhero mantel of Gemini-Blue of the Cursed-trio…

‘… as the Protectors of Perth-City…’

From the kitchen, Principal Harris walked to living-room – Paul sighed under his breath, hoping that Harris would leave soon, so that he could feed his hunger pangs – by feasting on 2 wholesome large-pizzas.

Tom Harris then stood at the centre of the living-room – and looked-up at the high-ceiling of the Walker-house – saying…

“Don’t worry, Paul – SOON, YOUR mom’s financial worries should be over – Mr Wilford would take care of you-all…”

“… huh…?”

‘… Mr Wilford? Isn’t that Peter’s girlfriend’s uncle…? How would he ‘take-care’ of us?’

Paul’s stomach growled…

‘… go-away Mr Good Samaritan… I badly ‘need’ to bloody-eat…’

“Oh, the curfew…” the principal said, as he walked to the door – Paul followed him to the door. Before leaving, Harris said…

“See you, Paul – go, eat your pizza – you mom is coming home tonight.”

“Thank you, Sir…”

Paul saw his Principal walking out to the front gate, in the late evening…

… he got into a green Volvo…

‘…huh… isn’t that Ms King’s car…?’

The moment Paul shut the main-door – he then held the arm-rest handles of the wheelchair – as he levitated from the floor while he ‘flew’ over to the kitchen, holding and dragging the chair – to reach the kitchen marble-top where the Marciano pizzas were…

‘… IT’S PIZZA TIME… who give a rat’s ass about some-Mr Wilford caring-for-us soon – nor ‘why’ was Principal Harris driving Ms King’s Volvo…?’

First, he pocketed $50 – and left the other $50 for Peter…

… he was salivating Pavlov-like – when he opened ‘both’ the boxes at the IKEA table… with 2 aromatics of his delicious favourite pizzas of…

… ‘Fruity-de-Mare’ AKA ‘Fruits-of-the-Ocean,’ which was a seafood-based pie – with a generous topping covered with mussels, clams, smoked-salmon slices and baby-squid bits on top of spicy tomato on the base, overspread with lots of top-melted Mozzarella cheese...

… the other was the salty-savoury of shredded smoked-ham, topped with 4-cheese pizza.

2 boxes = 16 slices

At first, he ate random slices of both boxes of the 2 pizzas – when his tummy was half-full, he then ‘experimented’ by combining the-2-flavours – as he sandwiched both slices…

… of the ocean’s seafood, with the land-mammal of cured-pork…

… and ‘discovered’ an acquired-taste for his foodie-self experience palette with the combi – but the double aftertaste of salty-savoury made him drink glasses of water until he felt a bloated stomach…

‘Time-out…’

The tween wheezed in discomfort and was nauseated – as he counted the remaining pizza-slices in the boxes:

2 seafood + 3 ham-cheese = 5 slices…

16 – 5 = 11 slices

Panting with a loud burp…

‘…wow… I ate a lot…’

He too was proud of his self-record of eating 11 large-slices of pizzas, in a single-sitting – the most he had last was 7 slices-record – from a cousin’s birthday party, years ago…

11 – 7 = 4 slices ‘more’…

Paul sat back at his wheelchair and rubbing his belly to buoy up a 2nd burp…

… as he counted his blessings of his Saturday’s hunger-trials, which finally WAS ‘REWARDED’ – by the ‘gifts-received’ like…

… to the ‘Heavenly-Manna’ – in form of pizzas…

… to the ‘Good Samaritan’ – who delivered it, and…

… to the ‘Good News’ – that there was a possibility of his mom coming tonight.