The next few deliveries went smoothly, which made Jack a little nervous. It was like waiting for the other shoe to drop. And when it finally did, it dropped hard.

He started recording and reached out to ring the doorbell. The door opened and Jack's eyebrows raised. A naked blond woman charged out the door and Jack lunged aside to get out of her way.

Clark gasped. "What the hell?"

Well, I've seen weirder things. Jack shrugged and kept recording. Which is pretty fucking sad in and of itself.

The naked woman sprinted across the yard while a naked man launched out the door, pursuing the woman. The guy held a steak knife in his raised hand. Clark screamed and stumbled backward.

Jack stuck his right foot out, catching the guy's ankle and tripping him. As he fell, Jack drew his Glock. He dropped the hotbox and aimed at the guy's back. "Hold on, asshole!"

The guy had sat up and turned around but froze when he saw what Jack was pointing at him.

The woman turned slowly to face him. The guy had a raging hard-on and the woman's tits were pointy. Both of them blushed.

Clark stood off to the side, hyperventilated, and looked as if he was trying not to faint.

"Drop the knife." Jack took his phone from his pocket and flicked a glance toward the woman. "Are you okay?"

"Uh, w-wait," the guy stammered as he tossed the knife aside. "What're you gonna do?"

"I'm calling the cops. What the hell do you think I'm gonna do?"

"Wait!" the woman squealed. "He wasn't gonna hurt me! He was … I mean, we were just …"

Jack realized what was actually going on and narrowed his eyes. "Oh, you've got to be fuckin' kidding me."

Both of them blushed even more. Jack grimaced and shook his head.

"That's really fucked-up, but whatever. I don't care as long as you pay for your pizza. That'll be thirty-five ninety-five, by the way."

Clearly wishing they could crawl into a hole and bury themselves alive, the couple shuffled back to the door.

"Hold on a minute," the guy mumbled.

Jack nodded, recording the couple's every movement as they disappeared into the apartment and came back a moment later, the man now wearing a pair of boxer shorts and the woman wrapped in a robe. The guy's erection stuck through the opening in his shorts. Both were still blushing, and by this point, Clark seemed to have turned a light shade of green. Jack shook his head, holstered his gun, and picked up the delivery box.

"You're not gonna tell anybody about this, are you?" the woman said as the guy held the money in his trembling right hand.

"You're kidding, right?" Jack chuckled. "This one is too good to keep to myself."

Some of the color drained from their faces. The woman covered her face with both hands and mumbled, "Goddamn it." The man began to stutter.

"But … but … b-b-b … oh no …"

"Don't worry. I won't mention any names or anything like that." Jack smiled, deciding these two didn't need to know they'd be on Otto and Shakira's stream later. The more he could play this out, the more money he'd get for the clip.

Sighing with relief, the guy handed over the money. "Just keep the change."

Well, so much for playing it out. Jack handed the pizza over, shrugged, and walked back to his hearse. No matter. There would be plenty more weirdness. There always was.

At least this is my last day on this miserable job. Just gotta keep that in mind and maybe I'll make it through the rest of the night.

"So," he said to Clark as he started the engine, "how ya liking the job so far?"