And now an update from the front lines

Comrades in the fight against the menace that are olives, please, spare a moment to read the condition of the front lines, from the Captain of AoB cannon fodder.

My name is Droideka. I work as cannon fodder for the glorious AOB. I have seen the horrors of war, the horrors that olives have inflicted upon society. I have seen it at home, in various restaurants, and even at an awexome conference just this Summer (Baptists tried to poison me!). The fight is going well in parts of the upper Midwest, but in Italy, I'm afraid the presence of olives has taken a firm hold. Not that I've been there, but it has, it's what various intelligence officers told me at last week's Cannon Fodder meeting in Chile. You find a lot of olives on "pizza" in places such as New York. Luckily, though, in Chicago, home of REAL pizza, there are very few to be found, due to a barrage of Anti-Olive propaganda (We only have the napkin and the two posters, but still, it apparently works) and subliminal messaging.
Until later, peace out, my Anti-Olive homiez! (Or comrades, if you're particularly picky)

Propaganda!!

THERE, SETH. PROPAGANDA. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW? DO I GET TO KEEP MY JOB?

(click on the picture for the full, less smushed view.)

Pizza? Olives? What is this?

Now, some of you may know this, but my father is a coupon fanatic. A serious fanatic. He's got a 10 year old blue Tupperware box in which he stores all of his coupons. This makes it quite... interesting to go shopping with him. He's always getting weird, random, and sometimes downright disgusting stuff for cheap-as-free(TM). You're probably wondering what this has to do with Olives, right? Well, this story about coupons explains why my dad bought two Supreme frozen pizzas at Harris Teeter last Wednesday.

We ate the pizzas on the next Friday, as it is somewhat of a tradition to eat pizza on Fridays at my house. I have no idea how it started, but oh well. I took the slice and started to take a big bite...

... when I saw an olive.

An olive. On the greatest kind of pizza ever invented.

I screamed and threw the pizza against the wall. "What's wrong?" my mom asked. "Did you see a bug?"

"NO!" I wailed. "I saw an OLIVE!! AN OLIVE!!" I ran into the kitchen, grabbed a trashbag and some Lysol (TM! Give us money now!) and sprayed that thing like there was no tomorrow. Using a pair of heavy duty rubber gloves, I threw it into the trashbag. I tied the top and threw it into the dumpster.

Sadly, I did not think until later to check the pizza for any clues as to who sent it. My vote's still going to LarkCorp, but I have no proof. Anyone want to volunteer looking through the local landfill?