Wherever you find pizza, you'll also generally find beer, which explains the fiery demise of the Red Baron. Elevating the timeless pies/suds combo: Fire Works Pizza.
The geographically desirable second incarnation of the longtime Leesburg joint, Fire Works is a semi-industrial mecca of brews and 'za's: a 270-seater lined with wall-inset firewood nooks and rust-colored slate tiles, a grand fire-pit'd patio, and a center bar backed by tap-handles protruding from a custom-made set of massive pipes, who've clearly been pumping Iron...City! Said taps're fed underground from a 15-keg, all-glass, frontroom cooler (with 16 more using a separate backroom job), and pour (almost) all-craft brews like Allagash White, New Holland Golden Cap, and Stone Old Guardian Barley Wine; they're bolstered by 100+ bottles (the second-largest menu in Arlington!) boasting standouts like Brewdog's 5 AM Saint and Hardcore IPA, and Terrapin's Hopsecutioner and Gamma Ray, exposure to which'll turn you into an irrational monster with a ripped shirt, because it's beer. The pie half of the equation's covered by 18 hand-tossed, wood-fired numbers, including the smoked bacon/Gorgonzola/roasted onions "Smokey Blue", the Spanish chorizo/mahon cheese/roasted peppers "Barcelona", the shrimp/calamari "Fruit Del Mar", and the pepperoni/sausage/meatball/salami "Quattro Carni", also the name of the one Gravitron operator who puts a premium on traction in the snow.
If you hate pizza, you're inhuman, but you might then enjoy alternate goodness like a duck confit salad, chianti-braised short rib with tagliatelle and rappini, and goat cheese-stuffed lamb meatballs -- eat enough and, paradoxically, you'll end up with your own Tombstone.