Personally, I’m a crustless gentleman.
Gimme that melty tip of of cheesy goodness, gimme that pepperoni with crispy edges, and then gimme another slice.
Yes, for my money Belly Space Analysis dictates I’m better off grabbing another slice from the box rather than chomp away at the crust’s puffy blandness. So I gaze up at the feasting lions clawing the pizza zebra to bits around me and offer up my crust to anyone who wants it.
Sometimes I even leave a little cheese and sauce at the edges to sweeten the deal.
If you’re a crust lover this is when your eyes flash fast and you growl at the others before tearing it from my hands and ripping it to shreds.
AWESOME!
