As I rolled down Congress Street on my way to the studio this morning I happened upon a suspicious scene. No, neighborhood kids weren't stealing street signs or tagging trash cans. It was a small flock of seagulls huddled around an object, taking swipes at each other with their beaks.

As I rolled slowly up to the apparent seagull gang and eased my car into park I realized that the object of dispute was an old slice of pepperoni pizza, probably from Otto right across the street. The birds were dancing around it, beating their wings against the misty morning air, and screeching to the sky as the biggest bird lunged for the slice.

In an impressive display of his dominance, the bird took flight with the slice in his beak. But the getaway did not go unattended by the other hungry gulls close on his tail feathers.

His wingspan was too great, his speed too fast, his determination too high. The other gulls just couldn't measure up to their much stronger brother. He landed just a few feet away, still clutching the pepperoni slice in his yellow beak, as the others waddled away.

You did it, buddy. You got the pizza and the glory. And you made me late for work. Now I want pizza.