Like the name says, and sold by the slice. The Bangladeshi proprietors take steaming pies out of their ovens 24-7, and never without a customer waiting. $1 gets you a slice with cheese; there are additional toppings, but they cost extra and after seeing a slice coated with some slimy gray mushrooms, I’d pay extra to keep them off. For $2.75, you get two slices and a soda. Peak times seem to be around 3 am and the crowd includes cops, EMT workers, Port Authority dispatchers, cab and bus drivers, partygoers, barflies, Covenant House outcasts, the occasional tourist, and crackheads. Beware the crackheads. They might be skinny, but if they have crazy in their eye, let them jump the line. Last winter, one of them slugged me in the mouth as I reached over his slice to get the pepper flakes. There’s an NYPD booth kitty-corner, which is comforting; it’s right next to the Port Authority Police Station, so in the rare instance that things devolve into chaos (generally customers behave and line up in an orderly fashion), count on the iron fist of the law to come down as swiftly and definitively as God’s avenging angels.