Pray tell, what is the prime price of a perfectly prepared pepperoni pizza in the pristine piazza at the Leaning Tower of Pisa, pal?

Actually, that makes perfect cents!  (You're a smart one; I like that. Would you like to get together for lunch or "something"?  Cough, cough.)



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No, thanks.

  Not even with the snazzy outfits I selected for us?  

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Doesn't matter if it makes cents because I no longer knead the dough ;)

 

  I didn’t have the heart to tell you I coughed up a lung laughing at that one because of the way it hit my funny bone, my stomach hurts from laughing so hard, you could say I almost busted a gut, it’s a real knee-slapper . . . , 

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