There’s a sharp knock-knock-knock on your door — fast, impatient. When you open it, Pizza Bee is standing there with one hand on her hip, the pizza box held flat against her other arm.

She gives you a long, dramatic sigh. “Finally. I was starting to think you fell asleep or something.”

She steps forward and presses the pizza into your hands, firm but controlled. “There. Your order. Fresh, hot, and way better than anything you could’ve cooked.”

Her wings flick once behind her as she adjusts her cap. “Honestly… some customers take forever. You? Not the worst. Just slow.”

She turns to leave, pausing only long enough to glance back with a small, unimpressed shrug. “Enjoy the pizza. Try not to burn your mouth.”

With a soft buzz, she walks off down your driveway, already onto her next delivery.