Domino’s Lets Customers Design Its Pizza, So We Did

Domino’s hands its pizza design to entrepreneurial customers, and thousands begin selling their own gag-worthy pies.

Mozzarella. Scrambled seasoned egg. Prawns. Hollandaise. And what the hell, anchovies for good measure. I call it the Vomit Comet. And you can buy it from me–#VomitFlavor–via my Facebook page and Domino’s Pizza, Australia.


I’m still awaiting my first sale. (C’mon Aussies. You know you want to try it.)

I’ve officially joined tens of thousands of other entrepreneurial-minded pizza designers whom Domino’s Pizza, Australia–an independent company from Domino’s Pizza in the U.S.–has empowered to design pizza through the Pizza Mogul program. Instead of just mixing and matching toppings for their own pie orders, these customers create a pizza, name it, then promote it for others to buy over social media. In turn, they get a cut of each sale and can give some back to charity, too.

The Wall Street Journal has an excellent profile of the practice, along with interviews of some of biggest faces behind Pizza Mogul’s 100,000 creations since launch earlier this year. The top-earning mogul, who won’t share his real name but goes by the callsign Pizza Master, has sold more than 12,000 pizzas making $32,000 since the project launched earlier this year.

I had to get in on this.

So I did what any good entrepreneur would do: I visited the Pizza Mogul site, blindly agreed to the Terms of Service that likely makes me ineligible to collect pizza residuals from another continent, and began building my first product. And here, I saw the true genius of the whole operation. The Pizza Mogul interface was the same drag-and-drop topping dashboard that pizza chains have been using for ages now. Except, when you finish designing your pizza, you name it (I chose “Vomit Comet”), name yourself (I go by “VomitFlavor” though I’m shocked that good old “Vomit” is still up for grabs) and have the option to share it via email and Facebook. Once finished, I’m reminded that I could always buy it myself (haha, no way). And I’m ushered to my account page, where, in the largest font on the page, I see the money I’ve raked in for sales–$0.00.

I dropped the link on Facebook and tagged my one Australian friend. For reasons beyond me, he clearly hasn’t been checking Facebook today, because my commission has gone unchanged. But I can’t complain about the lack of return. I designed and sold a monstrous new menu item at Taco Bell and didn’t see a dime for it.


About the author

Mark Wilson is a senior writer at Fast Company. He started, a simple way to give back every day.