Big Sammy C.

Sammy C.

“Off with his head!” shouted the malevolent queen, seated upon her lavish throne, sloshing around a cup of red wine. The throne is made of the finest materials money can buy: Spanish silver, Indian rubies and gold from the exotic Orient. The luscious crushed velvet seat cushion was so artfully crafted, it would have made even the finest fabric weavers of the ancient world fall to their knees in amazement. Truly an extraordinary piece, fit for an extraordinary queen. She didn’t buy it new however, retail price is for suckers. The queen snagged it used at an estate sale she caught wind of on Craigslist, paying easily half the price it would have been to purchase new. Just because you’re royalty doesn’t mean you can’t possess a frugal sensibility.

After the beheading she calls in the next interviewee, warning her man-servants to leave the body where it lay. The Royal family is taking applicants for a summer internship, in which Queen Sammy herself will grant you the privilege of carrying things for her, putting things down for her, and climbing stairs for her. All while being yelled at and belittled by the Queen herself-truly a great honor.  As the next candidate enters the room, Queen Sammy notices her wine is approaching a dangerously low level… this is completely unacceptable. She rears up on her royal throne and shouts “ARCHIEEE!!” through clenched (and already pretty wine-stained) teeth. Archie only had one job, but just kept fuckin’ up that day. He comes sprinting in with her favorite kind of wine: boxed.

Now with a full cup of her “groove juice”, as she calls it, she quickly inspects her prized “Future Is Female” shirt for wine stains before starting the first round of questions. She looks down at the peasant.

“So.” *sips wine* “What do you have to offer” *sips more wine* “To the Pizza Palace” *continues to sip yet more wine*

The nervous man begins to mutter something about pepperoni and Queen Sammy has already lost interest.

“Off with his head!” she shouts yet again, adding another headless body to the growing pile of unsatisfactory candidates. While this process may seem cruel, Queen Sammy has ruled over the Pizza Kingdom with an iron fist for nearly a decade. Not a soul would dare challenge her authority, nor should they. Since she took power, the kingdom has been very prosperous. Not only did she totally revamp the countries Instagram page, gaining millions of new followers virtually overnight with her unique brand of original content and curation, but she also turned Pizza Kingdom into the fashion capital of the world. A direct result of the crafty queen launching a top-notch brand of clothing that made Gucci look like some Kmart blue-light special shit. 

As the final candidate walks in, she instantly orders his execution simply based off the “Dandy Warhols” band tee he was sporting. She gets up to wipe the dusty residue from some Andy Capp’s Hot Fries off her fingers onto the dead man’s clothes, before announcing “I fucking hate The Dandy Warhols!” Without another word, she retires to the comforts of her lavish quarters. While she sleeps, Pizza Land is hard at work cleaning up the bloodied court and reorganizing the pepperoni closets. All in preparation for whatever their beloved, yet terrifying Queen will throw their way tomorrow.