Welcome to the Flying Pizza, a lace of large dimensions, many waitresses cleaning food off the floor and large fire pits for cooking and enjoyment.
The rules are pretty much the same as the board with the exception that if someone says something happened, it did. (Unless one of the moderators disagrees).
And now without any adou,
John steps into the restaurant and immediatly trips on a disgaurded pie. His arse smarts as he gets up to scrape food off his clothes. There are several people throwing food at one another and others going to the bar to buy more ammunition.
It becomes obvious that he is an easy target as two tems band together to pelt food at him, pinnning him to the floor by the power of projectile peas. This allows the two groups the Red Rascles and the Pestilent Purples to come out of hiding. Realising such, the teams dig into one another with cold spaggetti, mashed banana and hot potato. Mayhem insues.
John runs to the counter and hides behind a stall in order to get out of the cross fire.
