When I finally woke up I felt disgusting. I couldn't sleep, there was some strange presence in my room the entire night, and all I wanted to do was forget. But when I left my room the apartment smelled of it. I couldn't get rid of it.
I took a shower. Didn't help.
But I had to get ready for work. I got dressed in the sleepy stupor I was still in. But as I left I knew I had to get rid of it. I had to never talk to this pizza again. I went downstairs, got a trash bag, and along with the crap that I needed to get rid of in my room, I threw it out, never to hear from it again.
Or so I thought.
When i got to work, about two hours into the day, it came a knocking.
YES! END IT ON A POOP JOKE!
But just so we're aware, ordering Papa John's was maybe the worst mistake of my life. I'm going to wait AT LEAST three months to order it again. By then I'll probably have forgotten how bad it is.