Pizza
(Please note that this piece is written under the assumption that you are familiar with the characters from Final Fantasy VII)
“Hey Cloud, we have another order. Can you please take it to address 14-53 in sector 2?” Tifa’s voice came from the back room. Lately the bar had become more of a restaurant than a place to serve alcohol.
Cloud nodded as he picked up the box from the front counter, where Tifa had slipped the box to through a window. “I still can’t believe anyone pays for your cooking…” He muttered as he slid the box into a bag and shouldered it.
“What was that?!” the wall between Tifa and Cloud shook as an obvious kick broke a tile off the wall on her side.
The bell to the door entrance rang as Cloud fled the vicinity to his bike. Fenrir had served him well on more than one occasion. He felt bad really, after having lost all his chocobos in one night during an unfortunate gambling situation that involved plenty of liquor and Barret getting naked.
He shook his head, wishing he’d gotten drunk enough not to remember that particular night. Tifa had to run out of everything that night too. He hopped onto his motorcycle and kicked it to life, forgoing a helmet. It’s not like he ever rode with one anyway.
It didn’t take long to get to sector 2. In fact, finding the house was particularly easy. It was the only house that was white in the area. Though Cloud had been to sector 2 on several occasions, he never enjoyed it. It was the high end of town where houses looked more luxurious than anything else. It reminded him of how little he and the children had.
He stopped in front of the house and parked his bike, un-shouldering the bag with the food on it. As he approached the house and range the door bell he heard a crash coming from the floor above.
“God damnit, Rude I told you not to order from that place! Now he’s outside!” Cloud recognized the voice immediately. It was Reno of the Turks, and apparently Rude was there too.
“I was Hungry.” Rude’s voice was simplistic, as usual, and Cloud had to strain himself to hear that sentence. He was lucky the window was open or he wouldn’t have heard him at all.
“Hungry?! You could’ve ordered from anywhere! Anywhere but there! Not only is Cloud outside but her cooking is absolutely appa-“ Cloud was cut off from listening to the conversation when Tseng pulled the door open.
“Good evening, Cloud.” Tseng said, taking the box from Cloud.
“Tseng.” Cloud said simply, waiting for his payment. He wanted to leave as soon as he could. The Turks had always irritated him.
“As Tseng began to take his wallet from his back pocket a familiar blur of red came tumbling down the stairs, his back slamming into the door and closing it.
“T-Tseng, you gotta help me man! Rude’s gone off the deep end!” Reno’s voice was panicked behind the door and Cloud could swear he heard a gun drawn.
“God damnit… This is why I hate the Turks.” Cloud said as he walked, annoyed, back to his bike. Not to leave, but to grab something so he could make sure he was paid.
Several gun shots could be heard as Cloud drew one of his many blades from his bike. “Why me?” He said as he returned to the house, knocking on the door politely the first time. When no reply came he kicked the door in to find a missing box and bullet holes in the floor where Tseng had been standing.
“Damnit.” The sound of a helicopter could be heard in the distance.
Reno sat at the helm, addressing a blond haired girl. “And that, My dear Elena, is how the Turks acquire their Pizza.”
Envious of Misfortune Community Member 
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