[ WP ] You are a travelled drug-dealer in the state of New York and open a pizza place as a cover for a drug operation . In doing so , you find your true passion , making pizza .

`` Hello, Rick White.'' 
 
 The scrawny man shudders. `` Please, call me Mr. Pepperoni.'' 
 
 `` Your name is Rick White, is it not?'' A few swipes of his hand brings the relevant page to the officer's attention. `` Rick Amicus White, born in Ohio, moved to New York in two-thousand'n seven.'' 
 
 `` Yes. But... I prefer to go by Mr. Pepperoni, now.'' Rick fidgets a bit in his chair. `` It's more true to my inner pizzeria owner.'' 
 
 `` Okay, Mr. Pepperoni it is. Do you know why you're here today?'' 
 
 He shakes his head. `` No. I was n't told anything when they brought me in. Just... dragged here, like a piece of meat. Not the sort of meat I'd put into my pizzas, of course.'' 
 
 `` You, Mr... Pepperoni, are wanted for several accusations of drug dealing. You would n't happen to know anything about this, would you?'' 
 
 `` No! No, I... Well, let me tell you a story, officer.'' 
 
 The man sighs, and takes a long drink from his mug. Words wrap around it, spelling out *World's # 1 Dad-Cop*. `` If you insist. But,'' he says, leaning in so Rick can smell the coffee on his breath, `` you better make it good.'' 
 
 `` I came to New York ten years ago, seeking a way out of a hard home life. Parents were addicts, siblings stole from me, I was beat up daily at school. You understand, right?'' 
 
 The officer nods knowingly. `` A very unfortunate situation. Almost makes me empathize.'' 
 
 `` New York was supposed to be the place I could get rich. Drug dealing, it was a road to money, and money made you happy. Or so I thought. 
 
 `` I met John Adams - a pseudonym, or so I'm led to believe - not long after arriving. He offered to supply me, in return for a fair cut of the profits. I started an entire operation, and under my leadership, it grew to great proportions. I had money, cars, a roof over my head.'' 
 
 `` You wanted more.'' 
 
 `` No. No! I realized that it was too much. Too dangerous. I tried to scale it back a bit, make it safer, so I started a pizzeria as a front. It was supposed to be a small business, so I'd man it. 
 
 `` I still remember that first pizza I flipped. 
 
 `` Do you know what it's like, finding your true calling? I watched that sweet, soft, doughy delight flip and twirl in the air, and my heart positively *leapt* with joy. I knew, I *knew* I had found what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.'' 
 
 `` I see. And that's how you ended up owning, what is it, seventeen pizzerias?'' 
 
 `` Yes. Money is still important, of course, and my pizzas quickly became the most popular in all of New York. I saw so much room for expansion, and, well, I just had to get a pizza that pie.'' 
 
 The officer nods solemnly. `` Well, Mr. Pepperoni, I'm afraid we do n't have sufficient evidence to arrest you, so you're free to go.'' 
 
 `` What? I just admitted to... to my crimes.'' 
 
 He winks. `` I'm a rather big pizza fan myself.'' 
 
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