If anything survived the apocalypse it would be the gluten free dough there. I swear that stuff was cornmeal, rocks, and glue. It was awful. But those weird yuppies from California who show up to do 'eco-tourism' fucking loved it.

[And sometimes they loved sampling the local flavor in better ways than pizza so you know.. all worked out.]

Yeah, okay. [He is woozy enough to lean against Sharky, no questions asked, no manly posturing required.] Feel bad they have to make our beds and feed us and we can't even say thanks. Aren't you supposed to tip housekeeping staff? What am I supposed to do, leave them ghost dollars?