Jack, not known for his attention to detail, had one area of his life that was always in perfect harmony. His lunchtime sandwiches were symphonies of deli meats, sauces and herbs. Every evening, Jack would put time aside to create these masterpieces with the same focus and commitment to excellence that he put into absolutely nothing else in his life.

And so it came to pass that at 12:05 PM Jack was standing in the office, calling to worker and manager alike, in an attempt to right a terrible wrong.

“Where the hell is my sandwich?”

Silence. “The silence of the guilty,” Jack thought to himself and he looked into the eyes of his colleagues, searching for a flinch, or a quick gasp of air that would identify the culprit.

“I’ll find you,” yelled Jack. “There was enough garlic on that sandwich to make a Frenchman gasp, and if I have to, I’ll smell each and every one of you.”

Casey was the Office Manager, which meant that nobody really knew if she was in charge of anything, but she acted like it anyway. As she strode out of her office, her pointy heels clacked on the marble floor like hammers hitting concrete. “What’s going on here?”

“A crime, Casey.” Jack implored. “There is a thief in our midst, and I shall find him.”

Michael turned to Casey. “Someone nicked his sandwich.”

“Oh for goodness sake Jack,” said Casey. “It’s just a sandwich.”

“Just a sandwich today Casey. Tomorrow, it’s just a stapler, then just a computer, and before we know it the entire building and all the people in it have gone missing.”

“I think that’s a bit of a stretch Jack,” said Casey.

“Really,” said Jack. “And where were you between the hours of 9:15AM and 12PM today? In the fridge perhaps?”

“9:15AM?” Asked Casey

“Oh, I mean 9AM.”

“I didn’t steal your sandwich Jack. Now either go and buy some lunch or get back to work. Either way, stop distracting everyone.”

“This isn’t over!” Jack turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, and into the kitchen where his sandwich sat on the counter, next to the fridge, where he must’ have left it this morning at 9:15AM.

The mature thing to do would be to admit one’s mistakes, but just as Jack had never claimed to be pedantic in anything but his sandwich making, he’d likewise never seen himself as a beacon for maturity, honesty, or common sense.

Hiding the sandwich under his jacket, Jack walked out of the kitchen and through the office. Shooting another glare around the room to remind everyone that his sandwich was definitely stolen, he made his way to the elevator. It was a nice day to eat outside, possibly hidden in an alleyway somewhere.