Pizza PizzaClick! A raven-haired man picked up the phone that sat next to him. He rapidly began to dial a number. Ring. No answer. Ring. Again, no one answered. The man began to sweat profusely, cursing himself for not calling the other number he knew. But, no, he had decided long ago that this was the right choice. The right choice.... Could he be wrong? Did he, the almighty ruler of Esthar make...a mistake? No, of course not! he said mentally with a laugh. Ri-"Hi, this is Little Caeser's (tm)." "Hello?! Hello?!" "Can I help you, sir?" the boy on the other end of the phone asked. Laguna sighed in relief. It worked. "Yes! I would like a large pepperoni pizza with bacon and extra cheese." "And where would you like that delivered?" "The presidential building between First and-" "Yeah. Right." Click! The boy, thinking it was a prank phone call, hung up. Furious, Laguna yelled, "Dammit!", and slammed the phone down on its reciever. "That's the eighth time this week!" "Laguna, what's wrong?!" Kiros and Ward ran into his office, afraid for his safety. "We heard yelling and-" Kiros paused when he saw the pile of pizza coupons spread across the floor. "You told them to deliver it to the presidential residence again, didn't you?" "So? That's where I live and that's where I'd like it delivered," he replied gruffly. "Why don't you tell them somewhere else, then pick it up there? They think you're some punk kid making prank phone calls." "Because I'm the president and I have my own army," he said, folding his arms. Ward and Kiros sighed. "Do what you will...."
Days passed without success. Laguna even tried several different pizza restaurants, just to be shot down by some smart-mouthed kid who thought they knew everything. He was getting desperate, his tastebuds yearning for a slice of tomato-saucey heaven. He needed time to think; to devise a plan. Music is supossed to help with that kind of stuff, he thought. Laguna walked over to his radio and turned it on. "-third task. So, we've decided to give away a year's supply of free pizza to the 500th caller!" Laguna's head shot up upon hearing about the give-away. He scrambled closer to the speakers to listen for the number. "The number to call is....." "What? What is it?!" "Ha ha!" the man on the radio laughed good-naturedly. "Sorry to keep you in suspense. The number to call is...." "Tell me!" Laguna urged, picking the radio up in his hands. "Everybody ready? Here it is: 451-7204. That's 451-" Laguna wrote it down on a yellow post-it and stuck it on his desk. "-7204. Remember, I'm looking for the 500th caller! Start ringing!" "I am! I am!" He jerked the reciever to his ear and dialed the number. "Sorry, you're number 23." Laguna reset the phone and pressed redial. "Sorry, you're number 123." Again, he dialed the number. "Sorry, you're number 223." "C'mon!" "Sorry, you're number 323." "What the...?" He pressed redial. "Sorry, you're number 423." "Okaaaay, there's no way I'm winning," he said solemnly. Ring. "Huh? I-it's ringing!" The president held the phone tighter in excitement. "Hello, YOU'RE our 500th caller! Congratulations!" "Ah! I won! I won! I-" "No, no. You haven't won yet, sir," the disc jockey informed. Laguna's shoulders slumped. "I haven't....?" "No, but if you complete the three tasks, you do!" "Oh! What are they?" ".....Haven't you been listening to my show?" the man asked, sounding perturbed. "Err...yes, I love it..." "Well, good! Now, the three tasks are-" A drum roll resounded before the man continued. "One: Send us a picture YOU took of the president. You must also be in the shot. The president will be speaking at the yearly parade, so you have a good chance of seeing him. If you're allowed to go to the next level depends on how good and close the picture is." "Heh, heh. No prob!" "If you make it to level two, you will have to: Call up a friend or family member live on the radio, and coax them into picking up your dirty laundry from your house and taking it to get cleaned. But you may not tell them WHY. So, don't mention the contest." "And three?" "Do one and two first, then we'll talk." "Alrighty!" Laguna answered smiling. "Good luck, sir!"
"A picture of the president? Ha! I'll just...wait. He said I have to be in the picture too, but how can I be in a picture with myself?....Is the president even allowed to participate?" He rubbed his chin in thought. "Damn. I'll have to pretend I'm someone else." Laguna walked into the main hallway and spotted Kiros. "Kiros! Yo, do me a favor!" he yelled, running toward him. "Here." He pulled Kiros beside him and raised the camera above their heads. "Oh, no you don't!" Kiros protested. "I don't want my picture taken!" Laguna looked surprised. "Why not?" "You've blackmailed me too many times! I didn't kiss that flower! You just rendered the picture on your computer, then posted it on the web!" "Kiros," Laguna softened his voice. "I would never do anything like THAT," he said innocently. "Tch." "Fine! I'll find a passer-by and get a picture!" The president stormed off, leaving Kiros utterly confused.
Arriving at Esthar's main square, Laguna began to search the crowd. "All right. Now who would make a good me?" Many citizens walked by, but none caught his eye. "What does it matter? I'll just pick someone....Sir! Please stop a sec!" he pleaded, walking toward a man about his age. The man didn't recognize him as the president, which was all the better for Laguna. "Yes?" "I'm a tourist, and I was wondering if you'd let me take a picture of the two of us." Before the man could object, Laguna added, "I find your country very fascinating, and would love to get a picture with a native." The man was still unsure, but Laguna smiled cheesily, and it won him over. "Oh, all right. Where would you like me?" "Right here's fine!" The man didn't have time to smile, Laguna snapped the photo of them and ran off.
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