This text was created under human supervision, using the first sentence of a known work as its starting point.
The Deliverator belongs to an elite order, a hallowed subcategory.
There exists a small, fiercely proud tribe of men and women that lies outside the law. They are cyclists. Cycling is their passion; their religion. They live by the rules of the road, but not the rules of man. Theirs is a higher code: the Code of the Cycle.
The Deliverator is a member of this tribe. He is the result of a secret union between a sperm and an egg that carried the rare dominant allele for cycling ability.
He can ride for days, weeks, months, and years at a time. He can ride in heat, in cold, in wet, in dry. He can ride fast, slow, uphill, downhill. His legs are pistons, his heart a furnace. He can ride day or night. He can ride alone or in a pack. He can ride a bike with a front brake. He can ride a bike with a rear brake. He can ride a bike with no brakes at all.
He knows that the bicycle is perfect. He knows that all who think they can improve the bicycle are are madmen, and that all who trust them will come to grief.
He knows that he will ride forever, and that he will die riding, and he is content in this knowledge. He knows that his children will ride with him, and that his children’s children will ride with them, and that one day he will join his ancestors in the great riding in the sky.
The Deliverator belongs to a proud and ancient guild who have pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their honor to the riding of the routes, the life of the road.
The Deliverator has vowed to carry out a sacred trust, to fulfill his destiny, to ride in the employ of the Pizza Lord.
The Pizza Lord is the creator of the Pizza, the true father of the pie. He is the eternal and the glorious.
The Pizza Lord is wise and just. He is all-knowing and all-powerful. He is good.
The Pizza Lord loves the Deliverator, and gave him a bicycle so that he could ride in safety and in comfort, so that he could ride for him, and bring glory to him.
The Pizza Lord has given the Deliverator a hat.
The hat identifies the Deliverator as a man of faith, a man committed to the way of the pie. The hat sets him apart as a man who has taken a solemn vow. A man who is devoted to his sacred duty.
The Deliverator stands before the abode of the young man who has ordered the Pizza. He rings the bell. The young man who has ordered the Pizza answers the door. He is not dressed. He is wearing boxer shorts. The Deliverator does not comment on this fact, for he is not here to moralize, only to deliver the Pizza.
The young man takes the Pizza. The young man gives the Deliverator the money. The Deliverator examines the money carefully. It is not counterfeit. The young man has no weapons. He is not hiding anything. He does not have any friends with him. He does not have any allies readying an ambush.
The Deliverator thanks the young man.
The young man closes the door.
The Deliverator mounts his bicycle, and rides through the night, and rides through the day, and rides through the night again.
The Deliverator does not stop.
The Deliverator does not sleep.
The Pizza must be delivered.
The Pizza must be hot.
The Pizza must be fresh.
The Pizza must reach the consumer in a state of grace.
The Deliverator is the holy vessel of the Pizza Lord’s will.
There are those who say that the Deliverator is insane, that he is a zealot, a fanatic. They are right.
The Deliverator loves the Pizza Lord. He loves him with a passion beyond words and beyond sense. He calls upon his name in the riding, and hums his theme song in his heart.
He knows that the Pizza Lord is always watching. He knows that he is being judged. He knows that he will be rewarded for his service, or punished for his negligence.
He wants to please the Pizza Lord. He wants to honor him. He wants to show him that he is worthy of his trust.
But he is not perfect. He is a sinner. He has been known to commit transgressions.
Once, when he was about twelve, he was walking down the street and he saw a bird. It was a beautiful bird, and he took it and he cupped it in his hands and he felt its heart beating, and he did not know what to do, so he kept it for a day. Then he released it, and felt bad about it for a while.
Another time, when he was a little older, he was in a convenience store, and he saw a magazine with a picture of a beautiful woman on it. He took the magazine and he hid it under his coat. He did not look at it. He just wanted to hold it. He felt ashamed.
Some years later, he rode past a church and he saw a group of people singing and dancing, and he felt their joy, and he stopped and he got off his bicycle, and he danced and he sang with them for a while. He felt so good inside. He felt like he was a part of their family. He felt like he was loved. But all the while, the Pizza was getting cold.
He knows that the Pizza Lord forgives him for his trespasses. He knows that the Pizza Lord loves him more than any family ever can.
The Deliverator is filled with the power of the Pizza Lord, and the Deliverator rides faster, and the wind is in his hair, and the sun has never felt so warm, and he can feel the hair on his arms standing up, and his heart is pounding, and he can’t quite catch his breath, and he realizes that he himself has been delivered.
He has been delivered from his sins.
He has been delivered from his past.
He has been delivered from the consequences of his actions.
He has been delivered into the hands of the Pizza Lord.
The Deliverator sees him now, sees him in the distance, sees him rising up to meet him, sees him extending his arms, sees him smiling down upon the Deliverator, sees him beckoning him into a new life.
He sees his salvation.
He sees the light.
He sees the Pizza, and he sees that it is perfect. He sees that it is hot. He sees that it is ready.
A pizza of his very own.
He will eat of it, and be filled.
The Deliverator rides.
His journey is endless, but it will end, and the ending will be glorious.
Endless! Incredible!
Endless! Incredible!