The component parts of a sandwich sat together on the second shelf of the fridge. Lunchtime was approaching.
“After what you did to get ham and mustard noticed yesterday, I hope you’re next,” the lettuce told the bacon firmly. “That wasn’t sporting.”
“Come on, can’t we work together?” said the tomato.
“That’s just what they want us to do,” replied the bacon.
“I meant before we get put on the bread,” the tomato clarified. “To stay alive.”
“It was him or me,” said the bacon. “I regret nothing.”
“All I know is that if we’re going down, I’m taking them with me,” declared the spoiled mayonnaise.
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