A Handyman, a Prankster, and a Pizza

Staring through the solid iron bars of a steamy dungeon cell, I sat on a slab of cold stone.

Why was I confined to this squalid cell? The true victim, abducted and then imprisoned, was me, innocent.

A sigh...

I sighed deeply as I looked down at my ankles and wrists' triple-locked manacles. Let's investigate where everything went wrong.

Three hours ago or so, at a certain pizza in Brookland's downtown...

There were no clouds in the sky, and it was a beautiful afternoon.

"Hey Ryan! Come on, get your ass! We received a delivery. A deep, elderly voice echoed through the shop.

It was long beyond lunchtime, and orders were unusual at this hour. I was dozing off on the couch when I heard my boss's voice. I was worn out. I had been experiencing the same sporadic dreams, with hints of "it's almost time" or "soon," for the preceding few weeks. What on earth was that meant to mean? For once, may I have a fun dream?

When I looked in the mirror, I saw that I was a normal man who had just turned thirty. I wasn't overweight, but I wasn't slender either, and at about 190 cm, my medium-to-large clothes and jeans still hung loosely on my body. Even when pulled back in a tiny ponytail, my dark blond hair, which was almost shoulder length, looked messy due to its subtle wave. No one had ever described me as hot, even though I always saw a respectable-looking man in the mirror.

I ran errands, fixed leaky roofs, and did plumbing, and I was well-known in the community as a helpful handyman. I was working as a stand-in pizza delivery guy today. Yes. What a fantastic job. There aren't many lower ones.

'Circumstances' had just made me who I was, not because I wanted this life or because I was lazy. No proper education, no proper employment, and no love relationship. I had an exciting future ahead of me. Even though I wasn't whining about my way of life, I did occasionally feel envious of others who had regular jobs and families.

Let's get back to pizza. I looked up the address. It seemed to be the Indian man once more. He was undoubtedly filming another hoax video based on the time and the inexpensive materials he ordered. Because of his well-known prank channel on a well-known video-sharing website, that person was well-known in this area.

It's that prankster again, boss. I'm not sure if we should follow his instructions.

He shot back, "Don't you complain about any order, son!" "Any order—regardless of its type—means money to me. In fact, if we appear in one of his videos, we may make the store famous. Nevertheless, make sure to dress in the uniform, cap, store jacket, and other promotional items.

The employer was a large, elderly Black man in his fifties, if you will. I don't mean to be racist, but he was like most people in downtown. The only difference was that he always used a walking stick and wore black sunglasses.

He was, in fact, blind. I had heard that the 9/11 disaster cost him and his family their sight. Such misery would have driven the typical person mad or worse, but Boss Ren was not like that. Even when he had nothing left, he continued to live. A tough guy. I was there when he was starting over years ago, so I knew all of this.

Fortunately, he won enough money from the lottery following that string of bad luck to start his own store, which also served as his residence. He now operated a neighborhood pizzeria. Although he was a touch frugal with his income, he was still a good man who practically daily gave out leftover pizzas to the local homeless population.

He was referred to by the locals as Papa Ren, Big Ren, or Old Ren, which was also the pizzeria's moniker. I liked to refer to him as Boss Ren since it fit his disposition and character.

"But it's a spoof video, boss. I'm not sure if it will help the store's publicity.

"I don't care about culinary videos or prank videos. I've heard that he had almost 100,000 views for each one.

The boss's reasoning was incorrect, I see now. However, it probably didn't matter for a place like ours. In any case, we hardly had a reputation to damage. Our small business was already as low as it could get—we weren't even listed on Google Maps—in comparison to the upscale bistros and chain restaurants.

A sigh...

After accepting the assignment, I went to deliver the pizza. I do not mean to say "set out," in a car. It wasn't a bike with an engine that polluted the air. The bike at our store was 'green-centric' in that it didn't emit any sound or air pollution. It even has an environmentally friendly plastic pedal for self-propelling. It was the epitome of a bicycle.

Gerry, an elderly Labrador who lived on the street, barked as though to greet me as I was leaving the store. He wore a worn-out dog tag around his neck. Since Gerry didn't appear to be owned by anyone anymore, people concluded it had belonged to a prior owner who had abandoned him. He was frequently fed leftovers by people, particularly Boss Ren. He wagged his tail and barked once more. What a cute puppy. Unfortunately, I had stuff to do right now, so I was unable to play.

I strapped a pizza bag to my back and rode that kickass, environmentally friendly bike around the streets. The location was a six-story office building for small businesses. It was well-maintained and well-designed, so it wasn't too run-down.

The penthouse, or rooftop, was the seventh storey, where the customer's office was located. Up there, he worked in a glass home he had built himself. The man truly lived up to his reputation as an eccentric. I had heard that he had previously been a lecherous yoga instructor by taking advantage of his race. Public enemy number one, without a doubt.

I went inside. The receptionist, who was aware of the incidents involving my past deliveries here, looked up and gave me a pathetic look. I'll keep the specifics out of your mind for now.

I ascended the stairs to the roof after using the elevator to reach the sixth story. Bracing myself for whatever trick he had planned on the other side, I paused in front of the rooftop entrance.

"Phew."

I let out a long breath and opened the door carefully.

...

"Huh?"

This place was empty. There was nobody here, not even a crazy killer clown with a chainsaw or a huge styrofoam pendulum trap.

This struck me as odd, so I made my way to the little glass house, which was the sole building on the roof save for the standard antennas and apparatus. This glass house served as the Indian man's workspace and studio. There is no more swag than this guy. The glass ceiling panels were covered with plastic vines and highly colored in a variety of hues. The inside was only partially visible due to the variety of fake and genuine plants that were positioned both inside and outside. The air was filled with the loud buzz of an air conditioner exhaust fan. What a waste of being green.

When I reached the glass door, I saw that it was marked [Chillin and Rollin]. Whatever, man. I knocked.

Oh, a silhouette caught my eye. The tinted glass didn't show everything, but someone was inside.

I watched him go to the door. The prankster, Kazir. He had the same appearance as usual. The Caribbean style of dreadlocks. One of his fingers was encrusted with a huge, counterfeit gold ring featuring a dollar symbol. He was dressed more like a one-piece outfit in an enormous basketball T-shirt. His lack of gold teeth as yet astounded me.

"Yo, my bro!" In an attempt to seem like a Black man with an Indian accent, he greeted me. I thought, "Remember your nationality, man."

"Your pizza is here. One promotional pepperoni without meat and with extra cheese. It will cost $9.49. Still dubious, I didn't reciprocate his greeting. This man had the scent of impending misfortune.

"Whoa, acting like the aloof guy? I enjoy it.

I maintained an expressionless face.

"All ok, okay, hehe. Please refrain from making that pouting expression. Your money is here. Save the change.

He gave me a ten-dollar bill. Don't lose the change. If it had been at least $15 or $20, it would have been something.

After accepting the payment, I started to walk away, but he stopped me. Oh no.

"You're going to leave me alone with this enormous pizza, bro? Would you mind coming inside and relaxing for a while?"

Come on in? My inner alarm was going off.

"Dude, no. I'm doing fine. I'm supposed to be returning. I tried to decline nicely, saying, "I have other deliveries."

"I insist, no, no. Man, I need someone to look at my most recent work. Right now, you are the only person I can ask. You'll aid from one nigga to another, right? All you have to do is watch certain videos and leave comments. It won't be long. "No more than five minutes!"

Why should I evaluate videos for you? It would be any of the security officers downstairs. And above all, who is your nigga? I was not one, and neither were you.

I expressed my frustration by furrowing my brows.

"All right, you won, guy. Yes, I do understand, hehe. Nothing is free. Okay, I'll pay you? Ten dollars? How about that?

Ten bucks... That's not how cheap I was.

"$50."

Yes, I was aware that the price was still low. I would most likely be slightly pranked, but at least it was better than nothing at all.

"What? Is your brother being robbed? Fifteen!"

"$50."

I had to maintain my position. This was more than just watching videos, as we both knew.

"Twenty, dude! Will you please give me some leeway?"

His tone made it clear that this was more than just a video critique.

"$50."

"I'll even give you some of the pizza at thirty! Don't push it past that limit.

You mentioned that you needed assistance finishing the pizza, right? This man. I swung around and headed for the stairs.

"All right! Okay! You're a rapacious punk, hehe. You received your fifty dollars. Come on in.

He laughed at my willpower. Silently, his eyes were saying, "I'm paying you, so you better give a good reaction."

I entered the glass home after taking the fifty dollars. It was larger than it appeared. It was warm inside, despite the heat outdoors.

I could immediately see a number of cameras aimed at me. I was intending to charge him more if my clothes got dirty, but I had no idea what kind of prank this time would be.

I went to a bank of monitors after him. This was his workplace, apparently. I thought the prank videos he showed me were mediocre. I pondered whether those impoverished individuals were also paid.

He extended an offer of pizza to me. I ate it to be kind, even though I was a little skeptical.

I saw a figure standing close to the safety fence at the rooftop's edge halfway through the films, visible through the clear glass walls.

Yes, he was removing his shoes. I stopped eating right away and got up slowly while continuing to stare at the person.

The man was scaling the safety fence now, and Kazir saw him too.

Kazir gazed back at me after I glanced at him. That's how it was, I see. I was to be the suicide negotiator, he said. Okay, I could accomplish it.