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ghost emoji

oooOooOOOooh
got a bad feeling about this turkey deluxe I'm about to chow down on

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Manifisto


who among us has not felt käsebrotbösevorahnung?


ty nesamdoom!

wearing a lampshade

Manifisto posted:

who among us has not felt käsebrotbösevorahnung?

Macnult

[Ordering at a sandwich shop]
Cashier: “What’ll it be for today?”
Me: “I’m gonna go with... the turkey BLT.”
Cashier: “Turkey BLT, sure thing! Anything else?”
Me: “Nope, just that.”
Cashier: “Aaaalright we’ll have it out for you shortly. [yelling to the kitchen] ONE SANDS OF ISTANBUL WITH FARM GRAVEL”

the unabonger
im about to kick this sammies rear end

Dads Dip Cup

it's a strange and very unsettling feeling, something just seems "off" about the sandwich but you can't quite put your finger on what. it just doesn't act the way a sandwich should, it gives off a very creepy vibe. perhaps the sandwich is cursed, or it invokes the feeling that the next time you see it it will be wearing some other sandwich as a suit. you just want to get as far away from it as possible

Manifisto


Dads Dip Cup posted:

it's a strange and very unsettling feeling, something just seems "off" about the sandwich but you can't quite put your finger on what. it just doesn't act the way a sandwich should, it gives off a very creepy vibe. perhaps the sandwich is cursed, or it invokes the feeling that the next time you see it it will be wearing some other sandwich as a suit. you just want to get as far away from it as possible

Manifisto


tfw the sandwich looks a little TOO delicious. nothing tastes that good, what are you hiding?

Dads Dip Cup

*strolls over to the sandwich bar at the casino, carefully watching other patrons eat and gauging their reactions*

no... no, I just don't think today is the day

Manifisto


waitress, setting down your ham and cheese on marble rye: please enjoy him!

me: him?

waitress: it. please enjoy it.

roomforthetuna

I don't need to know anything about virii! My CUSTOM PROGRAM keeps me protected! It's not like they'll try to come in through the Internet or something!
I thought it was really weird when a small immobile cashier wrapped in paper brought me a big moving human-shaped sandwich full of blood and bones wrapped in cloth.

Kthulhu5000

by R. Guyovich
Up at the counter, thinking about ordering the daily special. The guy ahead of me orders it, and I decide to espy upon what it consists of. To begin, the cute sandwich artista grabs two square slices of plain white bread. OK, not the worst option, but no toothsome, seedy wheat? No tangy sourdough or intense rush of rye?

Then, she smears on mayonnaise. OK, this is subjective, but I've never been one for mayo on cold sandwiches. I feel an electric shudder in my shoulder sockets, a convulsive reflex of repulsion. But I catch my breath, gulp air down like a drowning man breaching the surface of the water, and steady myself. I can deal.

Next, la artista peels off the top two slices of processed cheese product from one of the metal tubs sitting in the perishable ingredients cooler. It's not the vivid orange of fake cheddar, or the wan yellow of classic American. No, it's the white stuff, the stuff meant to evoke provolone or Swiss cheese, but instead is just a profit-padder for the producer. Since, after all, the can pocket the money they don't spend on coloring, while robbing consumers blind of value.

I close my eyes, keeping them tightly peeled together for what seem like an eternity, and then I wrench them open with my ocular muscles. I behold a parade of Ludovico-like images of culinary atrocity; egg salad wiped over both pieces of bread, zigzags of ketchup, slices of pimento loaf stacked on top of each other, black olives and dry rubbery mushrooms...

All combined with nary a facial betrayal of shock by our artista. No, she folds one pile of culinary corpses on top of another, and then puts it in a microwave for twenty seconds. I watch, horrified but unable to make a sound, as this exhibit of atrocity goes on. Until, finally, my knees spasm into quivering jelly and I sink down to the floor, weakly grasping the thin rail running along the counter. I succumb to oblivion.

I return to wretched reality, to a managerial voice telling me, "Sir, it's OK. An ambulance is on the way. It's OK, sir. Not everyone can handle the Sprit Of '76 special."

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This thread brought to you by a tremendous dickhead!

blaise rascal

"Duke, Duke, Duke, Duke of Pearl...."

Kthulhu5000 posted:

Up at the counter, thinking about ordering the daily special. The guy ahead of me orders it, and I decide to espy upon what it consists of. To begin, the cute sandwich artista grabs two square slices of plain white bread. OK, not the worst option, but no toothsome, seedy wheat? No tangy sourdough or intense rush of rye?

Then, she smears on mayonnaise. OK, this is subjective, but I've never been one for mayo on cold sandwiches. I feel an electric shudder in my shoulder sockets, a convulsive reflex of repulsion. But I catch my breath, gulp air down like a drowning man breaching the surface of the water, and steady myself. I can deal.

Next, la artista peels off the top two slices of processed cheese product from one of the metal tubs sitting in the perishable ingredients cooler. It's not the vivid orange of fake cheddar, or the wan yellow of classic American. No, it's the white stuff, the stuff meant to evoke provolone or Swiss cheese, but instead is just a profit-padder for the producer. Since, after all, the can pocket the money they don't spend on coloring, while robbing consumers blind of value.

I close my eyes, keeping them tightly peeled together for what seem like an eternity, and then I wrench them open with my ocular muscles. I behold a parade of Ludovico-like images of culinary atrocity; egg salad wiped over both pieces of bread, zigzags of ketchup, slices of pimento loaf stacked on top of each other, black olives and dry rubbery mushrooms...

All combined with nary a facial betrayal of shock by our artista. No, she folds one pile of culinary corpses on top of another, and then puts it in a microwave for twenty seconds. I watch, horrified but unable to make a sound, as this exhibit of atrocity goes on. Until, finally, my knees spasm into quivering jelly and I sink down to the floor, weakly grasping the thin rail running along the counter. I succumb to oblivion.

I return to wretched reality, to a managerial voice telling me, "Sir, it's OK. An ambulance is on the way. It's OK, sir. Not everyone can handle the Sprit Of '76 special."
this is definitely my personal hell


ty vanisher, ty khanstant

Slush Garbo

FALSE SLACK
is
BETTER
than
NO SLACK

Manifisto


I don't care if it's a regional specialty, "loose meat" does not instill confidence

Randy Travesty

PHANTOM QUEEN


Manifisto posted:

I don't care if it's a regional specialty, "loose meat" does not instill confidence

Loose meats sink ships


Kthulhu5000

by R. Guyovich

Manifisto posted:

I don't care if it's a regional specialty, "loose meat" does not instill confidence

I'll take my meat filleted, sliced, piled high, folded over in perfect coils, and shredded. I'm not so keen on the idea of meat being "slapped" onto a sandwich.

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This thread brought to you by a tremendous dickhead!

Manifisto


Kthulhu5000 posted:

I'll take my meat filleted, sliced, piled high, folded over in perfect coils, and shredded. I'm not so keen on the idea of meat being "slapped" onto a sandwich.

yes but a sandwich is meant to be integral. loose meat sounds like it's broken through its restraints and is coming to get you, like a velociraptor.

or perhaps to seduce you with its flexible morals, which leaves me feeling conflicted

ghost emoji

oooOooOOOooh
like my grandpappy always said, loose meat leads to loose stools

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FutonForensic

a wrap is a sandwich with something to hide


Kthulhu5000

by R. Guyovich

FutonForensic posted:

a wrap is a sandwich with something to hide

99 times out of 100, it's mostly to hide wilted lettuce and the fact that they're skimping out on the already cheap, barrel-bottom quality turkey. But every once in a while, you can get a really great wrap, and it makes you wonder if you're helping the mafia launder money and/or slowly dispose of a corpse.

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This thread brought to you by a tremendous dickhead!

Meeksha

i did it all for the nookie
Ask me how!
-freb dust
Yesterday, just as I opened my mouth wide to take a bite of my sandwich, we made eye contact. I set him aside immediately, but he hasn't spoken one word since. It's just really uncomfortable in my house right now and I don't know what to do.

-----


come on and slam and welcome to the jam

Thank you Heather Papps for the summer sig!

Kthulhu5000

by R. Guyovich
The minute that I saw all of the sandwich fixins' were sandwiched between two untoasted English muffins, I knew that this was not going to be a sandwich experience to tell one's friends about.

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Twenty Four


Have you ever stopped to wonder how the sandwich feels about you? Maybe it is pretty scared that you are about to eat it, but maybe it knows it's true purpose and is happy to be of service.

wearing a lampshade

Hey dispatch, we got any reports of a suspicious looking sandwich? Yeah. Got it. *to the rookie* bodycams off, kid.

Barking Gecko

Mahoro says, "Naughty things are bad."
When the sandwich artista says, "Iä! Shub-Niggurath!" as she hands you your sandwich. . .

Manifisto


when the sandwich is spending lots of time with that food blogger it tells you not to worry about

Meeksha

i did it all for the nookie
Ask me how!
-freb dust
my sandwich keeps starting to ask me questions and then cutting itself off saying "umm...nevermind." i couldn't tell you why, but i feel that there is some malintent behind that olive on a toothpick.

-----


come on and slam and welcome to the jam

Thank you Heather Papps for the summer sig!

Randy Travesty

PHANTOM QUEEN


The salami flaps seem EXTRA flappy, somehow...


Kthulhu5000

by R. Guyovich
tornado-style anything gives my Doppler a heap, for sure.

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mags

I am a congenital optimist.
that sandwich has spent time in folsom

paul_soccer12 posted:

everyone in the idf must die

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