Piezo Delivery Boy

Mungo had been abused as a child. One of his ears had been bitten from his head, in the boxing ring, later in life. The cards he had been dealt had, more often than not, been mismatched and of low face value.

That was all about to change. While the helicopters buzzed about overhead, Mungo did a quick headcount; 32 first-graders in the room, and the sqealing bitch teacher, lying in a pool of guts outside the door where the kids couldn't see her.

He fished the 'phone from his pocket and dialled the same old number. "Pepperoni cheese, and two ham, cheese and pineapple, to room 412, Kingston Primary", he said to Angelo, "Twenty minutes? Sure."

Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at the door. A goofy looking kid was standing there, with three pizza boxes in his arms.

Mungo never noticed the heavy rubber boots the kid was wearing. He never noticed the kid flex his knees and rise up slightly onto his toes. He didn't hear the kid popping his knuckles, his neck, his elbows... He did notice the room passing beneath him as he floated gracefully across the room, slamming into the wall opposite, like a custard-filled sock.

The kid was gone, the children eating pizza, when the cops stormed into the room.