[ He eyes the fruit juice a little warily when it comes. He shouldn't be splurging, but splitting the costs will help. So he takes a sip. ]

We always get half-sausage, half-avocado. Deep dish. No bacon-crust allowed. Not that the place we go to would offer that anyway. It's got metal ovens, angry waitresses, and only sodas. [ He grins around his drink. ]

Tough competition.