Split-Personality Pizza

I called Jenny on the way home from work tonight:

"I'm running for the 6:23 train, yeah, be home by seven, work was fine, need me to pick anything up? And oh, what do you feel like for dinner."

"I don't know," she said. "Let me look--hold on--Girls, turn DOWN the Michael Jackson!"

I could hear her open the freezer, rifle around. "We have some chicken."

Nah…