There was one thing Noland wanted right now more than anything else: a sandwich.
But not just any sandwich. The sandwich. The sandwich he made. Brimming with lettuce, butter, and meats of questionable origin. A real sandwich. Not that wussy stuff kids ate.
And in order to ensure the safety of this magnificent work of art, he put a note on it. And he put it in the break room fridge. Scott had been kind enough to provide a room away from the hustle and bustle of the Frontier, and it was here Noland had entrusted the safety of his sandwich.
He opened the fridge door, salivating slightly. He saw his note, which read: "Property of Factory Head Noland. Do not touch." And that was all he saw. He looked for the tinfoil he had wrapped his sandwich in, but it was nowhere to be found.
He panicked.
Then he heard chewing. He slowly turned his head to see Lucy sitting on the couch. Pike Queen Lucy. In her purple tube top, black pants, and long purple gloves.
She seemed to notice his stare and turned to face him. "What's up?" she asked.
"What are you eating?"
She looked down at her hands and shrugged. "Sandwich."
"Where'd you get it?"
"Fridge."
He looked at the table. There was a small crushed orb of tinfoil. "Was this note on it?" he asked, holding it out the note.
She glanced at it. "Maybe," she said, taking another bite.
Noland crushed the note. "That's my sandwich," he said.
Lucy looked from the half-eaten sandwich in her hands to Noland's face to the tinfoil on the table and then back to the sandwich. "Maybe it is," she said slowly. She took another bite. "It's delicious."
Noland glared at her and leaned over so they could see face-to-face. "You are not worthy of that sandwich," he hissed.
Lucy moaned. "I love it when you hiss," she said, mouth still half-full of sandwich. Noland stepped back in disgust. She laughed. "You're so entertaining, Noland," she said, words muffled by meat and bread.
Noland frowned. He hated this woman. With all his being. Even if she was pretty hot. "I hope you enjoy that sandwich," he said. "Because it will be your las- wait, I'm not going to kill you. I need to think this out a bit more."
"Don't hurt yourself," said Lucy, taking another bite. "How else will I get my lunch each day?"
"You'll regret this," said Noland, halfway through the door.
"Okay," she said, waving him away.
Noland closed the door. She got the last word. She was so smug in her victory. He would show her. He'd come up with a great comeback.
He realized how pathetic this was.
"FUCK YOU," he screamed before running down the hall and back to the Factory.