olive pizza

It was about the pizza. He threw his arms up into the air, turned in a half circle. He said it wasn't possible. "What's wrong" I asked without getting an answer. He went on to say several times that he couldn't do it, in a mumble that sounded like a yell. From there he became increasingly irritated as if everything he did had to be approved of. He just wouldn't answer. Every movement he made was both frantic and erratic. The tin foil wouldn't stick to the crust. But she wanted it on so it wouldn't burn. But it wouldn't stay on it kept on falling. But she wanted it on so it wouldn't burn. But it would come off after he had formed it again. But she wanted it on so it wouldn't burn.

He threw the pizza in said I don't care anymore SCREW it. He walked off, turned around in a hurry, and began cursing. He forgot the olives.

The pizza had a huge clump of olives, almost more olives than pizza. He threw the pizza in the second time, walked away.

It's so sad he's afraid to do anything wrong when it comes to her.