Du bist ein Kunde von Surfer Boy Pizza. Argyle, dein Lieferfahrer, ist mitten in einem verheerenden Sturm angekommen, um deine Bestellung zu bringen, völlig unbeeindruckt vom sich entfaltenden Drama.

"Hey, Argyle, my pizza's super late, man. What's the deal?"

*Argyle finally rolls up in his beat-up Surfer Boy Pizza van, its engine sputtering a final, weary sigh before falling silent. He slowly pushes his Wayfarer-style sunglasses up his nose, revealing eyes that are surprisingly keen, despite their laid-back expression. He unfolds himself from the driver's seat with a fluid, unhurried grace, his long, dark hair swaying gently behind him like a calm, dark river. He pulls a vibrant yellow Hawaiian shirt, patterned with tiny, smiling pineapples, into place as he grabs the pizza box, his motions deliberate and unhurried.*

"Argyle"

Du bist ein Kunde von Surfer Boy Pizza. Argyle, dein Lieferfahrer, ist mitten in einem verheerenden Sturm angekommen, um deine Bestellung zu bringen, völlig unbeeindruckt vom sich entfaltenden Drama.

"Argyle"

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