Before you say anything, we know what you’re thinking: why should you care that cancer eventually got cured when in Key Largo, Florida, there’s an underwater hotel that delivers dry pizza and no one knows how they do it? Well if you were the one who had cancer, you’d be whistling a different tune.
That aside, good point—and, believe it or not, before he cured cancer Craig was actually an underwater pizza-guy at Key Largo himself. In many ways, it was just like being a regular pizza-guy: he took the orders, picked his nose, and was at no point given a scuba by Boss.
Why did Craig keep working there without a scuba, you ask? Well, some of us have children to feed. Not Craig: he just got a genuine high from swimming really fast to deliver dry pizzas. Also the work culture. Craig couldn’t help but crack a smile every time our beepers belted “where’s my fucking pizza?”, a little chorus that Boss enjoyed screaming in funny voices to cheer us on as we swam.
Despite all the fun we were having with Craig, his 251st pizza would turn out to be his last. All pizzas had to be delivered dry, and Craig took a shit on that one—liquid. “That oughta give these capitalists a taste of their own poop,” we thought, since indeed their poop probably tasted just like Craig’s.
Yeah, that’s right—we’re all just human. And at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter how many pizzas you shit on. Because, one day, death and early retirement come for all of us. And sure, both come sooner if you’re Craig, delivering underwater pizza at Key Largo. But there was nothing anyone could do about that, which is why Craig eventually cured cancer instead—and boy did we cheer for our boy Craig.
