Three-topping Special

It was her first call as a newly hired dispatcher, “Nine-one-one, fire, police or ambulance?”

There was pause.

“I’d like to order a pizza,” a trembling woman’s voice responded.

“Ma’am, I think you called the wrong number.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“You called 9-1-1.”

“Yes.”

Suddenly, there was a hard thudding sound, and a faint cry, before a male voice barked, “Hey, asshole, what’s taking so long?”

She froze momentarily.

“Hello?” he said roughly, “You know what, I’m hanging…”

“Pick up or delivery, and what would you like on it?” she finally asked.

“Delivery. Your large three-topping special.”

“Great,” she smiled, “Address?”