"Where did you get that?" Alex asked, gulping hard at the heavenly sight before him.
The temptation was unbearable. The smell of melted cheese and pepperoni clouded his judgment. Alex looked the woman in the eyes, not with romantic desire, but with pure, unadulterated gastronomic need.
"Could you spare a little?" he pleaded, swallowing his pride as a Commander. "Just one slice."
The woman stared at him, her eyes completely deadpan. Without saying a word, she grabbed the remaining two slices, folded them over each other like a monstrous sandwich, and shoved the whole thing into her mouth in one go.
Alex stood paralyzed.
"All gone," she replied with her mouth full, chewing loudly and with cruel satisfaction.
"HEY!" Alex yelled, snapping. His eyes flashed with fury. "You are so selfish! Whatever happened to kindness and camaraderie these days?"
GLUMP!
The sound of the food being swallowed echoed in the room like a death sentence for Alex's hopes.
"Did you seriously just swallow that whole?" Alex asked in disbelief, staring at the crumbs on the corner of the woman's lips. "What is wrong with you, woman? Are you eight years old?"
Alex accepted that he had lost to a creature with zero feminine delicacy and the appetite of a black hole. Despair washed over him.
"Why didn't you give me any? WHY?!" he screamed, losing his mind. "I've been eating canned crap for a whole month!"
Alex abandoned all reason. Forgetting his rank and manners, he lunged at her and began shaking her by the shoulders as if trying to make the pizza magically pop back out.
"Ouch! Let go!"
The woman reacted instantly. She grabbed a fistful of Alex's hair and yanked hard.
"That was MY pizza!" she screeched. "Get your own! AAAAAAH!"
"Let go of my hair!"
Alex retaliated by grabbing her cheeks and stretching them outward, forcing the woman to rise from her chair in pain.
And so, the fight began. At first, it was a battle of children on a playground: Wet Willies in the ear, Indian burns on the forearms, and quick nips. But soon, the situation escalated.
They abandoned childish tactics and demonstrated exactly why they were both Commanders at Blakk Industries.
The office turned into a wrestling ring. Alex and the woman began trading high-level submission holds. They went from hair-pulling to a Texas Cloverleaf, countered with a Colossal Clutch, and mutually applied a Brock Lock.
Their struggle took them all over the office: they rolled across the floor, slammed into shelves, knocked over tables, and ended up grappling on the couch amidst a pile of trash wrappers.
At that precise moment, the automatic door slid open.
"Excuse me, ma'am, with the new update, some scientists have reported the same server error..." a scientist began, walking in with his eyes glued to his tablet.
The man looked up and froze.
The scene before his eyes was, as he would later describe it, "as erotic as it was confusing." His face began to blush violently until he resembled a ripe tomato.
The scientist saw the Intel Commander sitting on the edge of the desk, leaning back. One of her legs was hooked firmly over Alex's shoulder, and the other was wrapped around his waist in a body scissors hold to prevent escape. Alex, for his part, was on top of her, pinning the woman's arms against the table, his face inches from hers, breathing heavily.
To any combat expert, it was a standard pinning technique. To the scientist, it looked like the cover of a forbidden romance novel.
Both commanders, sensing the intruder's presence, turned to look at the scientist at the same time.
"Shit!" they both said in unison.
They immediately released their holds and scrambled up, jumping to their feet. But the damage was done.
Now the scientist could see their state in more detail: both had red faces from the exertion, were panting and sweaty, their uniforms were disheveled, and their hair was a mess. And, to top it off, there was an unmistakable red mark—a bite from the fight—on Alex's neck which, from that distance, looked like a passionate hickey.
The silence was thick.
"I... I..." stammered the scientist, backing toward the door. "I'm sorry... I didn't know you were... occupied."
The man turned on his heel and sprinted down the hallway as if the devil were chasing him.
"There goes my reputation..." the woman muttered, staring blankly at the door through which the scientist had fled. "This is how my world ends. Not with a bang, but with a nosy scientist and an office misunderstanding."
She ran a hand through her messy hair, sighing with resignation. She knew that by dinnertime, the entire base would think she and the new Commander were having a torrid, violent affair.
Alex, catching his breath and adjusting his collar (which had finger marks on it), tried to console her in his own unique style.
"There are worse things, you know?" Alex said philosophically. " once, at my school, a kid named Oliver Williams pooped inside the municipal pool during a swim meet. They had to evacuate everyone. That's something nobody ever forgot."
Alex paused, evaluating the current situation.
"Trust me, don't worry. It could be worse. Being the protagonist of a spicy rumor is better than being Oliver."
The woman let out a short, dry laugh, but didn't look away from the door.
"I'm Alex," he said, extending a hand to the side without looking at her, offering a blind truce.
"I'm Valentina," she replied, accepting the gesture.
They shook hands firmly, sealing the peace amidst the mess of papers and wrappers, both staring into nothingness like two soldiers who had just survived a bombing run.
Finally, the awkward silence broke.
"I... I'm sorry," Alex admitted, finally turning his head to look at her. "I lost my mind. I've been eating that disgusting gray slop from the cafeteria for way too long. When I smelled the cheese and tomato sauce... I just got excited. It was survival instinct."
Valentina turned to look at him too. Her eyes, previously furious, now showed a little guilt (and perhaps respect for his fighting skills).
"Sorry for not sharing my pizza," Valentina conceded, crossing her arms. "It's just that getting real food down here is almost impossible. I became... territorial."
They looked at each other—sweaty, disheveled, and bearing battle marks—and smiled.
"So, Valentina..." Alex said, cutting straight to the chase. "Since we ruined our reputations together, are you going to tell me where you got that miracle, or do we have to fight again?"
"Ricochet Pizza," Valentina said, bending down to start picking up confidential documents that had fallen during the struggle.
"Ricochet Pizza?" Alex repeated, confused by the name. "Oh, thanks... And where is that?" he asked, watching Valentina stack classified papers as if they were used napkins.
She stopped and looked up at him from the floor, one eyebrow raised and a mischievous smile on her face.
"Help me clean up this mess, and I'll tell you," Valentina replied, leveraging her new colleague's gastronomic desperation.
Alex's shoulders slumped in defeat. He looked at the office, which appeared to have been hit by a tornado and then bombed.
"Sounds fair," Alex sighed, rolling up his sleeves. "Let's get to work."
[5 Hours Later. Alex's Room]
"Ahhh..." Alex sighed, collapsing heavily onto his bed and staring at the ceiling.
He was exhausted. His back hurt, and he felt like he had dust in his lungs.
When I offered to help her, I never thought it would take the rest of the day, he thought, rubbing his eyes. That place really looked like a pigsty. I think even a hog is cleaner than that woman.
Alex shuddered as he remembered the afternoon's "discovery."
I admit I was surprised to find the corpse of a rat stuck to a power outlet behind the main server, he muttered with a grimace of disgust. But the worst part is that the rat was nothing but bones. How long had it been there, electrocuted? Months? Years? That woman lives in a biohazard zone.
However, the sacrifice had been worth it. Now he had the location of the pizzeria.
Unfortunately, he couldn't go right now. It was too late, and even if he went, he'd probably find the place closed. But information was power.
Plus, he discovered something vital: Valentina wasn't just a trash hoarder; she was the Intel Commander. She was the administrative "brain" of Blakk Industries. She was in charge of assigning missions, responsibilities, and shifts to high-ranking personnel.
And Alex, being a born strategist, had made a deal.
She promised not to assign me any missions tomorrow in exchange for a family-sized pizza box, Alex smiled, closing his eyes. I have the day off and a map to Italian food. Tomorrow is going to be a great day.
The next morning, Alex's routine was militarily precise.
Opened eyes. Got out of bed. Brushed teeth. Turned on the shower faucet. Bathed. Put on his impeccable uniform. Fastened his tactical belts. Grabbed his blaster.
He left his room with a single goal in mind: Dough, sauce, and cheese.
Alex walked toward the hangar as fast as his legs would carry him, deliberately ignoring the whispers of the guards and employees he left in his wake.
"Pssst... they say he and Commander Valentina broke a desk yesterday..." whispered a technician. "I heard they're secret lovers... how unprofessional..." replied another.
Alex rolled his eyes, blocking out the background noise. He didn't have time for gossip; he had a date with destiny.
Upon arriving at the hangar and looking at his beautiful, gorgeous, precious, and powerful Tiger Mecha Beast, his heart skipped a beat.
"Hey, baby," he whispered, mounting up with excitement. "I'm hungry. I want breakfast. Let's go get that feast waiting for us."
Alex revved the engine and shot off toward the tunnels.
What he didn't know, however, was that driving alone without knowing the terrain has consequences. That dream breakfast would quickly turn into a late lunch.
"Dammit!" Alex yelled two hours later, driving in circles through a cavern full of glowing mushrooms. "They can project a 3D holographic battle map, they can genetically mutate slugs, but they don't have Google Maps! It's pure irony."
[Location: "Ricochet Pizza". Afternoon.]
Finally, after hours of being lost and asking directions from grumpy moles, Alex arrived.
Inside the joint, the atmosphere was festive. A group of young heroes was celebrating loudly at a central table. It was the famous Shane Gang. They had just pulled off a successful rescue, intercepting a Blakk Industries prison train and freeing the captives before they reached the stronghold.
The place was full of laughter and relief from the victory.
"You know? Being there was horrible..." said Pronto, the molenoid, striking a dramatic pose. "The food was terrible, the service deplorable. They almost withered my magnificence!"
"Always so dramatic," said Trixie, shaking her head while sipping a soda. "Pronto, you were only locked up for a day and a half."
Her tone clearly said: Don't exaggerate, buddy.
"And yet I survived!" Pronto replied with his inflated tone of pride, ignoring reality. "I am a born survivor!"
DING-DING!
The sound of the door chime rang out, indicating a new customer had entered.
The shift was instantaneous. As soon as the eyes of those present landed on the man crossing the threshold, the music seemed to stop. The celebratory mood died instantly.
Alex had arrived.
He was wearing the black uniform of a Blakk Industries officer (without the mask, of course), but his mere presence screamed "ENEMY."
Alex, oblivious to everything, began walking toward the cash register, his eyes fixed on the menu on the wall.
The tension at the Shane table skyrocketed. Trixie slowly moved her hand toward her blaster, ready to draw. Eli Shane sharpened his gaze, analyzing the intruder. Kord clenched his fists, preparing his troll muscles to strike. Pronto, true to his nature, tried to retract his head into his body like a frightened turtle.
Mario, the owner of the place, began to sweat cold bullets. Beads of perspiration ran down his forehead.
Did Blakk find out I helped the Shane Gang? Mario thought, terrified. Did he send someone to finish me off?
Alex finally reached the register. He ignored the deathly silence, ignored the armed heroes at his back, and looked at the sweating Mario.
"Uh... who's serving here?" Alex asked with total naturalness. "I'd like to order a pizza. I'm hungry enough to eat a horse... or a Mecha Beast."
