“Guys, it got me!” Darren stumbled into ‘Get Your Kids off Screens Toy Shop’ (our hideout) and collapsed dramatically, red liquid oozing out of his head.
Vanessa sniffed the liquid and gagged. “It’s tomato sauce! Everyone out! Now!”
Trying not to look at Darren, the three of us ran to the front door, opened it, then slammed it shut again. A ten-foot tall BLT was right outside! Lumpy tomato sauce dripped down its sides. Strands of Darren’s hair dangled from its jagged teeth. A trail of bones led for a mile behind it.
Johnny cowered in the corner, whispering, “What did we ever do to them?”.
I crouched down next to him. “What did we do to them? We ATE them, that’s what! And now they want to EAT us!”
“Tim!” Vanessa grabbed my shoulder and pointed to the other side of the room where Darren lifted his head, moaned, then clutched his stomach. It burst open spewing black goo along with millions of tiny white sandwiches which proceeded to run around the room.
“Eeek!” I screamed. “Death sandwiches!”
“What?” Vanessa asked, confused.
“Peanut butter! A death sentence for anyone with a nut allergy i.e. me!”
“Let’s get out of here!”
The front door was a no-go so we fled to the rear storeroom, batting the death sandwiches away with barbie dolls and other random toys. A tiny sandwich latched onto Johnny’s leg and he fell. “Help me,” he cried. “I’m gluten intolerant!” All the sandwiches suddenly stopped, turned around and swarmed him. There was a blur of white and multigrain until finally, body parts were spat out, one by one.
Vanessa gasped. I pulled her away. “He’s gone. We need to save ourselves.”
Safely inside the storeroom, we barricaded the door and sank to the floor. Vanessa sobbed.
“I know this is totally inappropriate… but I really feel like a ham sandwich,” she said. “No, scratch that. Something more exotic. Maybe a turkey melt.”
I laughed. “I’m starving too.” I opened the fridge. Damn. Only bottles of water. I threw one to Vanessa and chugged one myself.
Water.
I had an idea!
I searched the storeroom and found a box containing my favourite childhood toys.
“Vanessa, I know how we can defeat the killer sandwiches.” I tossed her a loaded super soaker. “The natural enemy of bread is water! Nobody likes a soggy sandwich.”
“Tim, that’s brilliant!” She kissed me. I stumbled backwards, dizzy with happiness. The girl of my dreams kissed me! But this was not the time to celebrate. We had work to do.
We clutched our super soakers and cautiously opened the door. The tiny sandwiches lunged at us but we launched our attack. They shrieked and collapsed into soggy puddles. It was working!
I posted a message online and seconds later the internet exploded with video footage of sandwiches around the world being decimated by water pistols, hoses and sprinklers.
“So, Vanessa,” I said. “Want to grab lunch? I know this great sushi place…”
Jane Brown is a web programmer and short fiction writer who lives by the beach in Australia. Her stories have been successful in various international micro and flash fiction competitions.