Sandringham Puzzle

One of life’s joys is consuming pizza. Not just eating it but smelling it and tasting it as well. There’s naught like the odour of fresh-cooked pizza to tease one and force the body to act.
You smell the delicacy, then you turn your head until you spy it waiting here in front of you, all pulsing with heat and pleasure, it is just awaiting your attack on its bodily integrity, almost shivering with apprehensive expectation.
Then your hand moves out to it . The hand moves by itself you make no decision or act of consciousness.
Snatching a piece of the paradisical prize you bring it to your mouth, slowed only by the need to make sure the toppings do not fall to the floor below. Either end first, it starts to vanish from public awareness into your gaping jaws, like a baby down the gullet of a wild beast.
With a snarl as you drop all patina of humanity, carnality consumes you as much as you consume the defenceless delight.
Then you belch and its shredded corpse is absorbed into your digestive system.
And only then do you relax and sleep.

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