TrIpTiCuS

I stare at the cheap TV dinner as it rotates within the microwave, my mouth salivating like a waterfall of desire. As the chorus of sharp, grating beeps ends I retrieve my meal, gazing upon it like a mother to her firstborn. It is my all, my world.

With plastic fork in hand, I stab into the salsbury steak with vigour, and I envelop it into my dark, watery maw. Between my teeth I crush the salsbury steak, mixing it thoroughly with my saliva before bringing it down my gullet.

Two slices of the Sandvich are in a refrigerator on a plate beside three bottles of Red Shed beer]

["Meet the Sandvich" text appears]

[Cut back to the Sandviches]

Heavy: [Groans repeatedly]

Scout: "Yeah, there he is!"

Soldier: "You! Stop right where you are, that is an order! He's getting away! Do not let him get to the re-"

[The Heavy opens the door, grabs one slice of the Sandvich and closes the door]

no

Better? :)

Yes :)

:)