It was long ago...very long ago, and late…very, very late. The Black Rhino was out cold on the couch, and Raoul Duke was running amok in the field behind the guest houses, discharging large-caliber firearms at whatever he imagined was moving ahead of him in the field.
And long time drinking buddies Joe Printz and Doug Stone were, well…hungry. Ravenously would-walk-a-mile-for-a-White-Castle hungry.
Determined to sate their hunger, they found their way undetected to the kitchen. There, while Doug breached the adjoining bar room and stirred up round after round of mezcal cocktails, Joe rifled through the kitchen pantry, refrigerators, and spice racks, collecting ingredients…ultimately finding enough makings to create a few pizzas.