She had ordered her usual favourite dish: a pizza with every single ingredient that the restaurant offered except pineapples. Only this time, for some odd reason, she was given a pizza with nothing but pineapples on it.
The perky middle-aged woman at the restaurant counter, oblivious to Squinky's extreme irateness, flashed the biggest pearly-white smile she could muster. "How can I help you today," she inquired in a sickeningly syrupy sweet voice.
Too upset to form coherent sentences, Squinky let out a grunt. "I beg your pardon?" asked the woman at the counter - or at least that's what she would have asked if she didn't suddenly get interrupted by The Artist Formerly Known As Helium Boy falling right through the ceiling.
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Squinky is always right, but only for certain values of "always" and "right".
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