The Immeasurable Panormous

To the Pizza Hut officials,

      As I sit content in a glutenous stupor, my eyes heavy with nap, I reflect upon the cause of my splendid semi-slumber, a large pepperoni and mushroom pizza from Papa John’s—a pizza that could have been a Pizza Hut Panormous. Allow me to explain why I elected against your flagship pizza, as well as why I might never eat at your restaurant again.
      While shopping at my local, neighborhood Wal-Mart for my bi-weekly groceries, I felt my stomach alert me that the dinner hour approached. I happened to be walking through the frozen pizza aisle, and because of my peckish state found the boxes of italian delicacies highly suggestible. I considered purchasing a frozen pizza for a later reheat, but I remembered passing not one but two Pizza Hut restaurants on my drive down the scenic Chapman Highway from my apartment and decided to try their vaunted and heavily advertised Panormous Pizza.
      Described by your advertising campaign as “so BIG it should have its own ZIP code!”, the Panormous was a favorite amongst my male roommates at my former abode, the Mimosa house. Though I never had the pleasure of enjoying its deliciousness personally (due to concerns over its effect on my girth), I envied with regularity my roommates savage ravaging of its melted cheese, crisped pepperonis, and sweet, sweet crust grease.
      My roommates experiences with the pizza giant also alerted me that it would be wise to share the pizza with friend due to its large size, so I called my friend James to invite him to my Panormous feast. James indicated that he would gladly share in the glutony of the pizza, but also indicated that he had a coupon that enabled one to buy a large pizza from rival Papa John’s and receive a comparable large pizza at no additional charge. I retorted that the Panormous actually contained two pizzas, and at $10.99 was a dollar less than the two large Papa John’s pizzas. James responded by claiming that the two large pizzas, at 14 inches of diameter each, would garner us considerable more food than the two pizzas included in the Panormous and was therefore a better deal worthy of our purchase. I replied that I was not sure how large the Panormous was, but having seen the box fill an entire shelf at the Mimosa refrigerator, I reasoned that each of the Panormous halves would be of comparable size to the large Papa John’s pizzas and would save us a useful 50 cents per person. After considerable debate concerning the matter, I resolved to call Pizza Hut myself and ask them the exact dimensions.
      Having called them just minutes before to inquire the price, I elected to disguise my voice in a heavy yet gentrified Southern American accent to avoid being that annoying customer who repeatedly calls a restaurant without committing to an order. My conversation concerning the measurements of the Pizza Hut Panormous Pizza went as follows:

-Thank you for calling Pizza Hut, this is Nancy. Would you like to try our new Pizza Mia?
-Yes, hello. How much is your Panormous Pizza? I said in my fake Southern drawl.
-It’s 10.99.
-And how big is that?
-Hmm. It’s big.
-Yes, how big?
-It’s pretty big. About the same size as two medium pan pizzas.
-Well how big are those? I asked.
-Have you had them before? she replied.
-No, that’s why I’m asking how big they are.
-Hmm. They’re pretty big.
-Can you be more specific?
-Umm, I don’t know what you want me to say. They’re like the medium pan pizzas but they’re square.
-Ok, but if you were to measure it, how big would it be?
-I don’t know, how do you mean measure it?
-In inches, I said.
-Inches?
-Ya, like with a ruler or something.
-I can’t do that, it’s rectangular.
-Wait, what?
-It’s rectangular.
-You can’t measure a rectangular pizza?
-What do you mean?
-Huh?
-Hold on.

All the Best,

Timothy Lee