20050705

Franklin: Origins of the Sammich

Hai guys! Franklin here with another sordid tale of my irregular lifestyle.

Today I will speak to you about an experience that lead to the introduction of a lunch special called the "Sammich" at the local diner near where I reside. The story can be kind of confusing at times, but I've given it a lot of thought as I work the late night janitorial shift at Joe's House of Pancakes.

It all started when the Technothon 3000.1 came to town. Apparently they mistook my fair and quiet city for some residence of neo-hippies, because as soon as they entered the town the silence was destroyed by something halfway between a cell-phone ring tone and a nuclear holocaust. Judging from the dazed and groggy expressions of the people strewn about the town green, I surmised they were as stunned as I was.

Steeling myself, I attempted to talk to man in charge about this intrusion into my town's peaceful summer. However, the conversation met with great issue, as I was wearing army issue ear plugs and the director was deaf. After excessive amounts of incomprehensible hand gesturing to each other in which I deduced that this man had been born in Japan, raised by rapid sparrows, and then educated at a school where everyone spoke backwards and he in turn decided that my parents had left me encased in concrete for six months, spoon fed me jello for years, and accidentally sent me to college instead of an institution, we decided to get some lunch.

The local diner had been made to be soundproof. This had happened because of the erroneous beliefs of the original owner that if he made his diner super sound proof it would be indestructible by nuclear bombs. As such, it made the perfect place to get away from the terrible din.

Upon entering, it turned out that the director was part of the long lineage of the family of those who were now running the diner. The Japanese couple running the diner were overjoyed, especially because the director's tattoo contained the last instructions needed to finally complete the secret family recipe for the ultimate sandwich. The first round of which cured all the deafness induced by the Technothon 3000.1 going on.

Unfortunately for our town, the diner left with the Technothon, and now makes a fortune curing the deafness the Technothon induces. So the heavenly "Sammich" left us.

I can't really remember where the name "Sammich" came from, as I didn't take my earplugs out until well after the conversation had ended.

In any case, be sure to have some earplugs around the house in case the Technothon comes to your town. I hear it's up to version 3017.7 now, which could be getting dangerous.

No comments: