Mixtape For The End of the World

3. Amber dies on Amber Wallace: Consulting Detective.

"I told you it was beautiful," Gabe said.

"It does look pretty good," I admitted.

"We should take a picture to capture the moment," Gabe said.

"That would make me even more late for work," I said.

"It's not like your boss is going to care," Gabe said, and again, he was right. I took out my camera and handed it to the tattoo artist, who took a picture of Gabe and I. Gabe, of course, felt the need to make a silly face, while I simply smiled for the camera. The tattoo artist gave me my camera back, and I immediately left.

"I'll see you later, Gabe," I said. "I really do need to get to work."

"Sounds good," Gabe said. "Maybe you can come over to my house on Tuesday?"

"That sounds like fun," I said. "I'll see you then."

I left the tattoo parlor and sprinted to Fall Out Bros. Pizza, conveniently located on East 12th Street, right next to the newly opened Tea Monkey. When I got there, The Clash were blaring in the back of the shop, and I resisted the urge to sing along. My boss, a man in his late twenties with dyed black hair, green eyes, very strong opinions on President Reagan, and more punk rock in his record collection than anyone else I knew, leaned back in his chair, watching my coworkers make deep dish pizza.

"Hey, Billie Joe," I said. "Sorry, I'm late."

"It's no big deal," Billie said. "There's only one delivery that needs to be completed, and it's not too far from here. Take Joe Trohman with you, and don't eat the pizza before you deliver it this time."

"Okay, Billie!" I exclaimed.

I found Joe helping one of the chefs make pizza dough, and he turned around immediately when I tapped him on the shoulder. "Pete!" he said. "You're finally here."

"Billie wants us to make a delivery," I said.

Joe sighed, took a pizza box, and headed toward the Fall Out Bros. Pizza car - a dull white car with the company logo sloppily painted on the side. I climbed into the driver's seat, and the two of us headed toward the house that we were supposed to deliver the pizza to.

"Where were you, Pete?" Joe asked. "You were supposed to be at work at four o'clock."

"I was getting a tattoo," I said.

"Wasn't that your excuse on Thursday?" Joe said.

"It was my birthday on Thursday. I just happened to spend my birthday getting a tattoo," I said. "Besides, Billie let me take the day off. He even gave me a free pizza for it."

Joe shrugged and asked, "Can I see your new tattoo?"

"Maybe after we deliver the pizza," I said. "It's on my leg, so I can't exactly show you while I'm driving."

The delivery itself was fairly uneventful. Joe brought the pizza up to the door, while I waited in the car. When Joe returned to the car, I showed him the tattoo of Gabe's face. "Is that Gabe Saporta?" he said.

"Yeah," I said. "I lost a bet to him."

"That makes a lot more sense now," Joe said.

I started the car, and Joe and I headed back to Fall Out Bros. Pizza. When we returned, someone, most likely Billie, had turned up the music, and there were a few customers in the restaurant waiting for their pizza. Billie had a lot more deliveries for us, and Joe and I spent most of the rest of the night delivering pizza. When we were finally done, Billie Joe handed me a slice of pizza.