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Horris was hungry... very hungry.
His lunch bag felt heavier and heavier in his grip, as he awaited the lunch whistle to blow...
Giant blocks of cheese were cut up into smaller bricks over and over in front of him. Each time a block was split, his mouth watered for just a taste... just enough to fill him... just a loaf of cheese, only one loaf... make it two... oh, no one'll notice... these huge blocks keep coming, I'm sure they'd let it go if I had half one-
Suddenly, a loud voice came out of his lunch bag. "HOLD IT!" Horris's hand stopped, hovering over the conveyor belt. Then, with his other one, he opened his lunch bag. Out hopped his PBJ, slightly smashed, and thoroughly frumped.
"Wha'd'you think you're doing!?" The sandwich asked, jerking its end out at Horris's hand. Horris quickly stashed it behind his back.
"N-Nuthin'..."
"Nothing my crust! And right in front of the tourists too! Horris, you oughta be ashamed!"
Horris rolled his eyes up to the windows, where dozens of Tillamook's visitors were watching him anonymously. He resumed a "I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing" routine, hoping whoever was watching would buy it, and move on. His sandwich shook its smashed top, and hopped back into the bag.
Horris's hands repositioned stuck bricks, removed excess cheese slabs, and cleared the way when blockades occurred on the belt... but after a while of handling the succulent bricks of condensed dairy... such a milky orange... perfect for a cracker... sink them into the cheese... it's what bicuspids were meant for-
"OI!" The sandwich cried, and Horris snapped back. His hands were clenched on a misshapen block, and his mouth was gaping open. He quickly jammed the mangled cheese into the 'reject box', and twiddled his hands. "Horris,” his sandwich lectured “that's twice I've had to keep you from losing your job!" And as it leaped back into the bag, it added "You shoulda thought of putting milk in your cereal this morning, eh?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." Horris nodded nervously, as the factory foreman approached him. The foreman had a BIG mustache. So big it had to be wrapped in plastic, which made the foreman look ridiculous, but equally superior.
"Horris?" The foreman asked in a deep voice. Horris looked back and forth, before staring at the foreman's feet.
"I haven't done anythin-"
The foreman waved his explanation aside. "Never mind that, Horris, Have you seen my hard hat?"
Horris collapsed with relief. "No, Mr. Foreman, sir... I think I saw Carlos wearing it though..." Horris pointed towards the room with all the cheese melting machines. The foreman nodded, and walked off, leaving Horris to get back to work. "Oh man..." He said to himself. "If he came over, and found I had cheese in my mouth..."
"Yeah," said his sandwich, as the lunch whistle blew. "I saved your butt back there, and you know it."
Horris pulled his sandwich out, and nodded, still jittery about how close his career had come to an end. "See how important a balanced serving of dairy, every morning is?” The sandwich continued. “Let that be a lesson to yeh Horris."
"I will," said Horris. "Thanks." And he crammed the sandwich down his throat.
- by MaryJeanStar |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 07/28/2009 |
- Skip
- Title: A Sandwich Tale
- Artist: MaryJeanStar
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Description:
Story about a man and his sandwich. If you've ever been to the Tillamook Cheese Factory, you'll relate more to the setting. I wrote this story off the top of my head, after glancing at a photo of a Peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Constructive criticism will be appreciated, as no one's writing is perfect. - Date: 07/28/2009
- Tags: sandwich tale tillamook cheese factory
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Comments (1 Comments)
- Purple-shoes616 - 07/30/2009
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very amusing
i enjoyed it quite a bit
my criticism would be that there are a few grammar errors and at certain parts you need to make what is going on a little clearer earlier - Report As Spam