Sandwich Lord

You have won a lifetime of free sandwiches from a local sandwich shop! They give you a neat little engraved card so they can identify you.

Having free sandwiches is great, you start each day standing impatiently outside for them to open so you can start your day off with a breakfast sandwich. You drive over during lunch, despite the fact that your work is on the other side of town for your mid-day sandwich, and you will usually stop in once, or twice during the night depending what's on TV.

After several months of this your fondness for sandwiches transcends others, and you begin to feel a strange sort of kinship with them. They speak to you. (That or you have discovered the necessary dosage of cold cut preservatives to act as neuro-toxins)

The more you hear from them, the more they seem disappointed with your use of your station. "You could be doing so much more!" they implore! Give sandwiches to the hungry!

So you start spending your weekends distributing sandwiches to homeless people. Until eventually they start referring to you affectionately as "sandwich guy".

Soon you get another message from the sandwiches "Use your sandwich trust-bond to lure them into dark alleys, and then finish them!"

"What? No!" You respond.

But they persist, "It is your right and duty as Sandwich Lord!"

So you do it, and enjoy it. The "free sandwiches" card in your pocket grows colder and hums contentedly with each kill.

You become very good at feigning surprise and horror when other hobos tell you that someone has gone missing while you hand them sandwiches.

Were you a stronger man you might resist at this point, in a last ditch effort to claw yourself back up out of the abyss before it is too late.

But you aren't that man.

 

Name:
Your comment: