Squashed!



                         Squashed! sandwich stories
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sy
sy There we go
Autoplay OFF   •   2 years ago
Part two of the explosive sandwich-squishing saga. (see previous poem for context)

Squashed!

Look, I don't want to play the blame game, Of who left what and where. My sandwich was set for the briefest of time, Only a moment did I leave it there.

I had my back turned barely a minute, When you decided to plonk your behind, On a sofa that was clearly quite occupied. I'd like another one if you don't mind.

It came in the three-pound meal-deal, So you can keep the crisps and the drink. I'm not asking for the Queen's State Banquet, Quite reasonable, I say, don't you think?

No, not that one, try the middle shelf, I can't stand french onion cheese. Yes, over there, the artisanal loaf, Oh, and a chocolate bar, pretty please.

Consider it compensation, And we'll bid this matter adieu. Come, now, don't go whinging, The fault lies completely with you!

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