Pizza, but no longer a pizza *guy*

He could still smell pizza after his delivery. How? It wasn't as if pizzas were skunks. Did the pizzas smell *that* good? Each step toward his car became harder to complete. His legs were getting weaker. Made it ... barely. Was he sick? He hoped that he hadn't infected the pizzas. He'd be fired if his customers called his employer and blamed him for some illness. He sat in the driver's seat and felt his behind ... flatten beneath his weight. He pulled keys out of his pocket, only to find that the metal was stuck to cheese on his hand. No, his hand *was* made out of cheese. He tried to move his fingers, but they had fused into the tip of a slice of pizza. Freckles popped up all over his increasingly yellow skin. The dots expanded into pepperoni as his body shrunk. He couldn't see any of this. His eyes had blended with the rest of the cheese topping that had once been his epidermis. He would have screamed if only his vocal cords hadn't turned into crust like the rest of his internal organs. His brain was gone, but was his soul still intact?