Twas a day like no other in west blue. The sun was shining and the ocean glistened with the afternoon sunlight. Just over the horizon many ships could be seen in central Ceenyurieta. The ships docked at a nearby port. The ships belonged to none other than the notorious pirate crew, the whitebeard pirates. Before you knew it, whitebeard was out of the ship and he was peering into the city. "Looks like a mighty fine day to get us some grub, sons" whitebeard bellowed. Ace jolted upon deck and exclaimed, "gee wilikers I sure am starving." Marco bolted out of his ship on to the docks along with the rest of his crew. Whitebeard pondered where he could take his crew to get some edible matter. It was as if an angel put an idea in his head himself, "subway" he shouted. Whitebeard and the crew marched forward while Marco flew looking for the nearest sandwich retailer. The townsfolk were set ablaze with fear as they marched forward in their pursuit of subway. In a matter of minutes they stumbled upon it, it felt as if an angle has blessed them, this was not blimpies nor quizzno's this was subway, the real deal. They continued forward when the flapping feathers halted them himself, Marco.

Marco cleared his throat "Ok guys, we have been living together for the quite amount time. You all must be aware by now, I am a Phoenix or in more common words a bird. I know in this eating establishment poultry could be ordered. If you like poultry, good for you, eat all the poultry you want but I myself do not partake in the eating and or digesting of winged beasts. I hope we can all be mature about this guys, I know I am bird we don't need the jokes. If you must whisper amongst yourself but do not tell me. If in the event you act like an immature 12 year old I will show that a Phoenix should not be mocked. I hope we can all enjoy ourselves and have a grand ol' time. We good...yeah we good."

With that being said the crowd all nodded simultaneously. Ace leaned to a crewmember and whispered "go buy a turkey and throw it at him" within 27 seconds there was combined total of 427 planned turkeys to be thrown at Marco. On that note the group bursted into the doors of subway. When they were inside they realized they had no idea what subway had to offer. They gazed nervously at the menu. Marco felt a part of himself die when he glanced across a picture of his fallen kind, number 17, the turkey sandwich. As he wiped a tear he heard the words being said to his crew "Welcome to subway what would like to eat?" The crew was at a loss for words.

Thach was the first one to step up to home plate. He nervously said "I want T-T-Turk-rk-turkey on white bread and um...(oh crap, he thought he had already started and knew he had a duty to finish it)...turkey is a bird...uhh...like that guy" he blurted out while pointing to Marco. "Oh my fucking god what did we just go over outside no less than 5 minutes ago your stupid, immature asshole" Marco exclaimed with anger and sadness in his voice. The lady tenderly handed him dead bird on bread and asked $4.20. Thach without understanding native currency handed the lady a hope diamond.

Jozu was the next contender ready to meet the challenge. He mustered up all the courage he had and bolted to the counter. At the top of his lungs his shouted "Woman bring me chicken parm and turkey and duck...do you have any Marco here?" The lady said no. Marco began shouting "I can see that conversation meant nothing to you *crack in his voice* you cruel people!" At this point Marco was crying. He bolted at the door to only slip on a piece of discarded turkey. As he got up his clothes connected with a nail. He began to run away only to have his clothes torn of him. Filled with tears the naked Marco crashed through the door and bolted out. He received many stares from the customers at the neighboring stores from the strip mall. The stores included Victoria Secret, Chuck E. Cheese's, Bobs furniture, and J.C. Penny. Marco ran faster than Little Red Riding Hood herself with a basket full O' turkey. Eventually he made it to the Autobahn clocking the highest speed on the highway. Just next to him a jet black secret service limousine rolled beside him. Inside was none other than the president himself, Barack Obama. Obama was in the middle of reading the newspaper when he looked to his right only to see a naked man running next to him. He rolled down the window, "Sir, I don't know how you're running this fast, but right now, you look like a chicken who just got its head chopped off." With that said, Marco ran as fast as an eagle soaring towards it small opponent. Marco continued to run naked through the highway until he managed to get himself on the Olympics 100m dash as soon as the gun was shot. He was neck and neck with Usain bolt who said "you run fast as bird." Marco cried harder and began to run faster until he reached 186,000m/s. without knowing it Marco holds an Olympic record for being the fastest runner. When he was running he began to see the light at the end of the tunnel. When he reopened his eyes he was standing naked in the subway in which he came from. "Hey Marco think fast" ace said while throwing a turkey. Marco began to cry naked on the floor of subway. He was defeated. He pushed himself up and ran out the back door once again. " Goddammit Jozu we only got one turkey in what are we gonna do with the other 426" Whitebeard sighed.

The food proprietors stared at the now broken down door with their jaws ajar. "Um…" a female vendor of the meats stated, "Um, was there something… wrong with that man…" The whole crowd erupted into euphonious laughter. Ace spoke up, "Marco was never a brave man, and you could say that he was chicken-hearted!" Vista was the next one to talk, "He just likes being naked! You could say he was free as a bird!" That was followed by more laughter. Haruta stood on top of a table and shouted, "Don't worry, he wasn't very high in our pecking-order!" Jiru was the last one to talk, "Don't worry about the damage, you can just put it on his bill!"

Now, it was time for the real deal, the grand cabeza, the MacDaddy himself, a man with bulging muscles and clocking 30 feet in the air. He was standing neck and neck with the cash register. The man know as Whitebeard looked the lady dead in the eye as if she was One Piece as he said, "Good afternoon madam, I am standing here right now because I wish to acquire a sandwich. Not just any sandwich, but a roast beef sandwich with peppers, onions, lettuce, Swiss, American, and cheddar cheese along with olives, tomatoes, and mayonnaise on whole wheat bread. I need to keep the carbs low, ya' know"

The lady started walking to the side so she could begin making the gigantic sandwich when she was interrupted by what sounded like a beached wale crying for its mother, "WAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTT!" "What is it, sir?" she replied as calmly as she could. "I would also like it to be slightly toasted, if you may." "Why certainly, sir!" She said while hurrying to make the sandwich.

Whitebeard then walked back to his seat with the rest of the crew. In his mind, the thoughts were racing like Marco running naked flapping his arms like a mighty bald eagle. Receiving the sandwich, grabbing the sandwich, staring at the sandwich, about to eat the sandwich, moving the sandwich closer, teeth on the sandwich, changing mind about the sandwich, pulling the sandwich away, buying a spaceship with the sandwich, going to moon with the sandwich, battling the King of Mars with the sandwich, signing a peace treaty with the Martians with the sandwich, coming back with the sandwich, being awarded the Nobel Peace Prize with the sandwich, being there for the sandwich, watching the sandwich fall in love with a grilled cheese, throwing a party for the sandwich, being the best man of the sandwich, becoming the godfather of the sandwich's offspring, watching the sandwich's marriage fall apart, helping the sandwich pay child support, helping sandwich win custody of his child, watch sandwich grow hate for the kid fore his smile reminds him of her with the sandwich, help sandwich create a account then realizing that the sandwich was right there, devoting oneself to the sandwich, donating a kidney to the sandwich, taking a trip to Venezuela with the sandwich, growing old with the sandwich, staying by the side of the sandwich in his final moments, realizing what life with a sandwich would be like, realizing how stupid he is for thinking about multi-race romance with a sandwich, getting pissed that five minutes has gone by, hearing his stomach grumble, anticipating his sandwich. He thought his mind would go on forever, but he was halted when the voice of the cashier entered his eardrums.

"Sir, your sandwich is ready,' the lady said sweetly.

Whitebeard stood. More proud than a mother who's son just won the national chess competition, he strode his way to the counter, he looked the lady with anticipation and desperation, she was putty in his palms. "Here is your sandwich, sir." The lady said beginning to push the plate forward. Time stopped. Everything was moving in slow motion, Lux Aeterna began to play and the entire restaurant was set ablaze with fear. There were millions of eyes on the counter even though the only people there were his crew. He began to sweat; he could see the rim of the plate and what looked like crust. In this moment, he felt as if he had found the key to the universe. Then, the sandwich was in front of him…

He was face to face with the sandwich when he realized something; you may recall hearing Whitebeard order a slightly toasted sandwich, but what he saw was anything but that. He was staring into black, cold, diabolical, dark void that he thought would consume him before he consumed it. He stood there, flabbergasted, tears welling in his eyes. "OLD MAN!" The whole crew shouted. They saw the look on his face and they new it wasn't gunna be pretty. "I," Whitebeard started to speak, "I told you, that I wanted my sandwich, l-i-g-h-t-l-y t-o-a-s-t-e-d…" He said very agitated. The woman looked up at Whitebeard, preparing for death.

"What is this mockery? You can go ahead and give me the REAL sandwich now! Hand it over!" Whitebeard howled.

The woman stared at him and slowly replied, "Um, sir. That is t-the real sandwich…"

Whitebeard's face went blank in horror, "You call this a sandwich! My grandma can make a better sandwich and she's been dead for a hundred years! I want my doubloons back!"

"Um, I'm sorry sir, but I'm not allowed to give you a refund. My boss will kill me!" the lady whimpered.

"Go fetch me this 'boss' or excuse for a man here right now! On the double!"

"But I don't want him to get angry at me sir!"

"Do you want anger the boss or do you want to be on my mantel piece?" Whitebeard asked, threatening the girl. The girl ran to go get her boss faster than a jackrabbit on the Fourth o' July. The boss came swaggering out of the door behind the counter. He was prepared to put this guy in his place. He walked to the counter and began to say, "Listen bub, we don't give out refunds he-" he paused, looking up and seeing the massive block of chiseled stone in front of him, "Did I say no refunds. I meant to say that it's give customers everything in the register day." The man handed Whitebeard the moolla. Whitebeard just stared at him, "This petty attempt of bribehood will not suffice for the sins committed here today!"

"W-w-w-what a-am I sup-posed t-to d-do s-s-s-s-sir?' the man quivered.

"You can give me a real fuckin' sangwich, that's what you could do, Mistah Bossy McLoosapants. Make me a sandwich, not this joke! NOW!"

The people behind the counter scrambled about, trying to make the ultimate sandwich. They slaved like a Jew in Egypt for 3 and a half minutes preparing the sandwich of the Gods. The time went by like an oyster. The clock on the oven hit zero like a punch to the face. The lady did not know what to do; this was a completely foreign situation. She was not told how to deal with this back at the Subway training school. She put the behemoth on the plate and presented it to the bearded man of white. Whitebeard took the sandwich and spent 20 minutes sniffing it to inspect the sandwich. With the track record of this place, he had no idea what to expect. He finally took a bite out of the sandwich. You could see the distaste in his eyes from a mile away. His head hung low. If he were a happy camper then right now he would be the opposite. "This sandwich," he spoke, "sucks it motha's tits!" he said throwing the remaining sandwich putting a whole straight through the wall. "Prepare to face your demise!" he yelled in dismay. The lady gasped, "Is there anything wrong sir?"

"Anything wrong? ANYTHING WRONG? Have you even looked at this abomination to society?" Whitebeard beckoned. Ace walked over the wall where the sandwich was implanted. Always up to the challenge he took the sandwich and tried it, "You know dog, this sandwich is pretty rad."

"What did you say Ace?" Whitebeard threatened.

"I meant uhhh, I've never had a sandwich insult me this personally…" he chirped.

"That better fuckin' be what you said da' first time, punk! Or they'll be callin' you Portgas D. Igotmyheadcutoffinasawmill Ace!"

Whitebeard was done; he stared at the lady behind the counter, "Get out."

"W-what?"

"Get out!"

"But sir, I w-work here."

`"I said hit the bricks you tramp!" Whitebeard stammered.

The girl ran from behind the counter and out the broken door, "And tell you mother your father has a girlfriend!"

The big cubblubba, the dog of subway, the throne holder of all sandwiches, the superman of condiments, the overlord of yeast stared up at Whitebeard with his beady black eyes. The stare leaving Whitebeard's glistening irises was so menacing it gave the old man down the street a run for his money. The old manager was the spitting image of Peter Costa in his older days 3. His voice was as shaky as Los Angeles in 1994 as the words "You're on m-my property-y," left his lips. Whitebeard's eyes widened like plot from the 7th season of Friends. "You dare have airwaves leave your larynx in my presence?" The manager cowered like an tv repair man that dropped the tv, "I d-don't appreciate your t-tone, mister…"

"Well, you know what else I hope you don't appreciate?"

"W-what?"

"Having your nipples attached to your milk lines!"

Whitebeard's fingers used the Vulcan Death Grip as he came in contact with what he thought was the manager preparing for the grand daddy of all titty twisters when his suddenly realized he had his fingers on the wrong milk lines.

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHAHHAHHAHAHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

It came to Whitebeard's attention that he was most certainly attached to the manager, but instead he had his cold grip on Mr. Rogers who was making his way out of the bathroom at the exact moment of Whitebeard's attack.

"Oh my god! Look what your fuckin' terrible sangwich made me do?" Whitebeard held Mr. Rogers in his arms, "Tell my puppets… I love them…" he said as his last dying breath in a hoarse voice. Whitebeard glared at the manager, "It's all your fault," he whispered, "Look what ya did to Mr. Rogers!" as a loan tear rolled down his cheeks like an avalanche of baloney, "That was my childhood… and you MURDERED him," Whitebeard said while applying guerilla glue to the corpse. The manager, not knowing what to do, pretended to be a fish and flopped on the floor.

The next thing the crew saw was the abominable snowman barging through the broken doors wearing a tuxedo hold Marco bridal style who was in a flowing wedding dress. Doves were flying everywhere.

"Guess what guys? The bridal shower's tomorrow!" Marco yelled.

"We don't give a hoot!" shouted Ace.

"But the baby's kicking!"

"Well, I guess birds have smaller gestation periods," Ace commented.

They all ran out blissfully into the sunset and boarded their ship once again. A very crapily painted "JUST MARRIED" glistened from the back of the ship. The manager was left alone in the abandoned restaurant. He sat there, sobbing, and began to think about how shitty his life really was. He eventually cried himself into a bitter sleep. Then, suddenly, he sprang up and screamed, "PUT THE BATTERIES IN THE FRIDGE! He looked around, this wasn't Subway, he was in his own bed and in his own house as if all this were a dream. Just to make sure he was in reality, he looked around to find his signed poster of Okaruto from Zeebo Sword.

"Oh thank god, honey! You were screaming in your sleep all night!" He heard his wife say to him.

"Oh, honey I had the weirdest dream ever! I was at work and these people, no these heathens, came in! There was some Big Bird knock off who was being pelted with turkeys! And then this humungous mountain of muscle ripped off Mr. Roger's tits! He was so angry because we accidentally burned his sandwich. Honey, I don't think I'm ever going back to work again."

"Don't say that honey, I'm here for you till death do us part."

"Thanks dear, I needed that right now," he said looking but was frozen in utter shock when he saw Whitebeard in a floral nightgown reading Huckleberry Finn under that the lamp light. He exploded right there.

THE END?