Ice Skating on Horseback

The Very Terrible Sandwich

Hello, my fellow people. I was going to do a new story for this, but my computer crashed before I could save. So, I decided to do a story I already wrote.

Enjoy!!

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It all started when this angry leprechaun threw a sandwich at my window. I was asleep and dreaming of an entire world made of delicious pasta and pizza, when the horrible stench of the sandwich woke me. I got out of my bed, holding my nose, and I looked out the window. The leprechaun ran away, giggling.

I went downstairs and outside with a broom. I poked the sandwich a little bit, and it slid off the window and plopped onto the sidewalk.

I don’t want to describe the disgustingness of the sandwich, but I can tell you that such a sandwich was not meant to be created.

I went back inside to get a box of gloves, the kind that you can throw away when you were done with them. After putting every single glove on both of my hands, I gently picked up the sandwich (holding it away from my face) and carried it to the trash.

I took a couple of trash bags and wrapped the sandwich, layer-upon-layer. Then I sealed everything with duct tape.

I hopped on my bike and began pedaling. The smell of the sandwich still lingered around my nose.  Jeez. Just writing about this brings back the terrible smell!

I held my nose and rode my bike, trying to find a very secluded place to dump the sandwich. I finally found a huge pit in the ground in the middle of nowhere. I threw the sandwich as far as I could and rode away, really fast.

“Good riddance,” I said.

I biked home, relieved that I didn’t have to deal with the stink of the sandwich again. I walked into the kitchen to heat up some leftovers, when the same angry leprechaun jumped out at me and slapped me with a giant fish. He ran away again, giggling. The sandwich was on the counter.

“Freaking leprechauns!” I cried.

And the stench was getting worse. I lifted the sandwich up off of the counter with a stick. I put on a baseball glove and threw the sandwich as far as I could again. I turned around and the sandwich reappeared on the floor.

I couldn’t believe it. This terrible sandwich must’ve been cursed! But there must’ve been some way to get rid of it. Or get away from it.

I took a mannequin that I bought from the mall and put some of my clothes on it, hoping it would trick the sandwich. Then I went on an airplane and flew as far away as possible.

I was about to be served dinner, when the flight attendant tossed something in my lap. The cursed sandwich! I opened the bathroom door and flushed it down the toilet. Then I went back to my seat. I reclined in my seat and pulled out the eating tray. The sandwich was smooshed into the cup-holder, looking grosser than ever.

“AAAHHHHHHHHHH!!” I screamed. I couldn’t take it anymore. I took a parachute and jumped out of the emergency-exit. The wind howled in my ears. When I was close enough to the ground, I activated the parachute and dropped into Nova Scotia.

One of the people that lived there greeted me. He offered me the cursed sandwich.

“Why can’t those leprechauns leave me alone?!” I cried as I ran away.

I sprinted as fast as I could. I went around another corner, and the sandwich was mounted against the wall near a ‘Have You Seen Me?’ sign.

Why couldn’t I just get rid of it?! What was wrong with those sick leprechauns?!

Maybe I could’ve thrown it at some gangsters or something. Maybe that would’ve passed the curse onto someone else.

I went to a shady alley with a lot of graffiti on the walls. I threw it at the next person I saw. But the person just threw it back at me.

I decided that I needed to seek professional help. A fortune teller lady or something could help me get rid of the cursed sandwich. I took a taxi to the nearest psychic’s office. The psychic held her nose welcomed me inside.

I showed the sandwich to the fortune teller.

“A leprechaun put a curse on me,” I said. “I just can’t get rid of this terrible sandwich!”

“Hmmmm…” the fortune teller said. “Leprechauns curse people because they are tired of them trying to steal their gold.”

“But I never tried to steal gold!” I yelled at her. The stench of the sandwich was making me dizzy.

“You’ve set a leprechaun trap when you were in elementary school,” the fortune teller said.

“How did you…?” I stopped, remembering that she was a psychic. “HOW DO I GET RID OF THIS THING?!!?”

“There is only one way to get rid of a leprechaun’s cursed sandwich.” the psychic said. The disgust in her face chilled my bones.

“You don’t mean…”

“Oh yes, I do. Do it outside of my office, please.”

I stepped outside of the office. I unwrapped the sandwich. It unleashed its foul smell. I gagged, tried not to barf. I closed my eyes, and tried to imagine a delicious ice cream sundae, with bananas and powdered sugar on top. I raised the cursed sandwich to my lips and took a bite.

It turned out to be the very best sandwich I have ever tasted. And ever since then, I've had leprechaun traps all over my house.