Free Killer Crust by Chris Cavender Page B

pizza.
    I just hoped that I hadn’t made a mistake.
    As it was baking, Jack Acre joined us all on stage and summoned one member of each team together. I went for our team, as did every other lead pizza maker. Once we were together, Jack said softly, “This won’t take a second, but Luigi is still missing, and he’s not answering his telephone. Frankly, I don’t know where he could be.”
    “Does that mean all of our work has been wasted?” one of the twins asked pointedly. “It’s not fair, you know.”
    “Hang on a second,” Jack said. “The competition is going forward. Provisions were made for emergencies, and this is covered. I’m going to judge tonight’s entry myself, and I’m sure Luigi will handle tomorrow’s two competitions once he shows up again. How soon will your pizzas be ready?”
    We were the last ones, set to pull out our pizza in eleven minutes.
    Jack nodded. “Very good. There’s no need to wait any longer, then. Whatever you have baking now is going to be your entry for tonight’s competition.” He looked pointedly at Maddy and me as he added, “There won’t be any second chances tonight. Do you all understand?”
    I got the message, and I saw that some of the other contestants were nodding their approval of this change in rules. Had there been complaints about our second entry for the regular crust phase of the competition, especially after we’d taken second place? Knowing some of the teams we were going up against, it wouldn’t have surprised me one bit.
    That was fine with me tonight, though. I didn’t need any more second chances. I nodded my agreement along with everyone else, and then Jack smiled. “Good. I’m glad we got that settled. I’m going to make an announcement, and then we’ll turn off the big timer.”
    Jack Acre turned to the crowd as we rejoined our teams, smiled, and then said, “Ladies and gentlemen, we’d like to thank you for taking time out of your evening to join us, and we won’t waste any more of your evening than we have to waiting for the full hour to pass. As soon as the final pizza comes out of the oven, the judging will begin.”
    Someone from the back of the room shouted out, “Where’s Luigi?”
    Jack held up his hands. “He’s been unavoidably detained, but as his second in command, I’m taking over for him in his place. There’s no need to worry. The contest will go on.”
    There were a few murmurs from the crowd, but there wasn’t really anything anyone could do about it. Where was Luigi, though? He loved the limelight; that much was clear. So then why had he given up his opportunity to have a captive audience? It must have been important; that was all that I could say.
    Maddy was still staring at our oven when I rejoined her.
    “How’s it looking, Sis?” I asked.
    “We’re good so far,” she said as she kept her glances darting from the oven to the power cord and then back again, “but I’m not lowering my guard for one second. Has anybody pulled their pizzas yet?”
    I looked around, and saw that the team from Charlotte was cutting their pizza already. It had an abundance of ham and pineapple on top, and the aroma wafting over to our station was heavenly. “The Charlotte team went Hawaiian,” I said.
    “I can smell it from here. Wow, that’s going to be tough to beat. How about the Raleigh team?”
    I glanced over at them and said, “Nothing yet. Asheville’s pulled theirs out, though. They went with a kitchen sink pizza this round.”
    Maddy frowned. “How is a thin crust possibly going to hold it all?”
    I had the same concern. There was a danger of losing toppings if a thin crust was overtopped. Then I looked closer at their pizza. “They’ve done a fine petite cut on all of the veggies. It looks pretty amazing,” I admitted.
    I noticed one of the twins removing their pizza, and my heart sank a little. “The Raleigh team went with straight cheese, too. Their pizza looks amazing.” It did too, with bubbling