Overview The Cahulawassee River is soon to be destroyed, along with the beautiful country that surrounds it. Eager to make money from the indigenous population before they're displaced, entrepreneur and outdoor fanatic Puerileuwaite creates a business opportunity for him and his blog buddies to sell and deliver pizzas to the mountain men and backcountry people. Little do they know, they're in for much more than they originally bargained for. Selling pizzas to the unwashed masses anywhere can be an extremely unpleasant experience... especially deep in the American backcountry where nobody's on your side, and the tips that you are likely to receive are the ones that you would least likely want.
Delivery #1: 6:15PM Mountain Man: Ray Don! Get yer ass on down here, now. There's a man from the county with some high-fallutin' e-quip-ment. Says he wants to do sum testin' fer ya! Ray Don: Yes, pop? Mountain Man: Jus' yankin' yer chain, son. It's really the pizza boy. Mountain Man: [to Puerileuwaite] Why don't you take off that itty-bitty logo embroidered poly-cotton blend polo shirt. Them khakis too.
Delivery #2: 7:00PM Mountain Man: I'm gonna make you cry like an onion, and slimy like an anchovie. Now squeal like a Honda Civic taking a right-hand turn at 40! Weeeeeeee! Puerileuwaite: Weee! Mountain Man: Weeeeeeee! Puerileuwaite: Weee!
Delivery #3: 7:55PM Mountain Man: What do you want to do now? Toothless Man: [grinning] He's got a real purdy cap and name tag on him, don't he? Mountain Man: Ain't that the truth. Toothless Man: [to Puerileuwaite] You gonna do some prayin' for me, boy. And you better pray real good. Puerileuwaite: Ummm, guys, please don't take my cap and name tag. My manager is a real asshole, and he'll dock my pay if I don't turn 'em in at the end of my shift. Mountain Man: Dang, boy! No can do. See, Earl here, he collects caps, and hell, I need somethin' fer my troubles. Toothless Man: Got dat right. Sheeeut. Puerileuwaite: Look fellas, can't we make some kind of other arrangement? How about if I drop "trou" and bend over yonder log, and let you both sodomize me? Anything. Just not the cap and name tag. Mountain Man: Damn, boy, how come ever' time you deliver a pizza, you try'n get us to sod-o-mize yew? Dat's wha the sheep is fer. Toothless Man: Got dat right, Sheeeut. Mountain Man: What you need is a lady friend, boy. (Puerileuwaite recoils in horror, turns quickly, runs away)
Delivery #4: 8:40PM Puerileuwaite: Damn, you play a mean banjo. Mountain Man: Well, thanky, podner, but like I told you las' time, I ain't into sod-o-my, boy. So you jes leave it alone, friend.
This business idea was inspired by Malnurtured Snay, and a recent post of his in particular. I feel for you, brother! This one's for you.