A box full of hamsters

Earlier today I went to visit a friend, bringing along a fresh-baked apple and fig pie.
As it was fresh from the oven, and very juicy, I had wrapped a sheet of baking paper around it before placing it in a box lined with a towel, which I then loaded carefully into big, black, plastic bag with holes punched in.
I wanted to be sure it survived the bus and train ride without spilling over. The bus ride went well.
The train ride even better.
The seats across from me were occupied by a father and his young son, a beautiful, quirky little boy, 5 or 6 years old.
He stared at the box-shaped bag.
Quirky boy: "What's in the box?"
Me: "Hamsters"
Quirky boy: "Hamsters?! Oooh, I want a Hamster!"
Me: "Well, these hamsters are all spoken for"
Quirky boy's father: "They smell nice".
Me: "They eat only baked apples".
And then it was their stop.
Next time I WILL bring her a box of hamsters.
Apple pie is rather dull in comparison.

Oh, no, it's just pizza

Lunchroom at work, early evening.
I read the paper having finished my pasta salad.
A young colleague walks by, carrying a pizza box.
I don't remember his name.
He opens the door to the courtyard, nods in way of greeting.
Me: "So you're dining al fresco?"
Him: "Oh, no, it's just pizza"
It's pretty chilly outside, though.