Snape Makes a Sandwich

Snape stared at the sandwich.

He stared at the sandwich which lay on the white plate, on the long white table.

"White," he thought, "What is white doing in my dungeon?"

Snape absentmindedly changed the color of both the table and the plate to tombstone grey, which was, in Snape's personal opinion, far superior to white.

Snape's eyes resettled themselves on the sandwich. His sandwich. His own lovely, beautiful sandwich…

Sandwich…

Beautiful…

Thinking…

Flashback…

Snape stormed angrily into his dungeon. Those idiotic house-elves had messed up his sandwich for the last time. No matter how many times he had told them how to make it, they always messed it up, and then they would apologize in those high, mocking voices of theirs, "Oh sir, we is very sorry, sir. We had no idea, sir. Please let us stab ourselves repeatedly with unwashed butcher knives, sir."

Now Snape thought corporal punishment was all very well and good, but it wasn't getting his darling sandwich made! "Sometimes, a man's just got to do a thing himself," said Snape as he pulled on his tight, black, surgical gloves, "But first, I must have music!"

Snape flicked his wand and conjured a vitrolla record player. Then, smirking evilly, he opened one of the 'restricted' cabinets. Within lay his muggle record collection. Snape looked up and down the rows. There were so very many choices, but which one to choose? He had the 1812 Overture (there was just something about cannons that made Snape feel all warm and fuzzy inside), Mettalica (for Death Eater meetings), Abbey Road, Help, Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, Hard Day's Night, Rubber Soul, Yellow Submarine, Magical Mystery Tour, The White Album, and Let it Be (Snape was a huge fan of the Beatles). He finally decided on the White Album, a weird, hip and groovy album, for a weird, hip and groovy guy making a sandwich. What could be more fitting?

To the strains of Back in the U.S.S.R, Snape began to conjure all the ingredients he would need. Rye bread, slightly under ripe tomatoes, arugala lettuce (the extra bitter kind), lightly charred roast beef, heavily roasted green peppers, black, cracked pepper, red onions, Swiss cheese, super spicy habanero Tabasco hot sauce, and low-fat mayonnaise. Now those were the makings of a fabulous sandwich!

While singing along with the song Dear Prudence, Snape started putting together his lovely sandwich. First, on one piece of the rye bread, he dumped the tomatoes (all cut into equally sized pieces; he was a potions master after all!) and then the cheese, followed by the roast beef. He quickly decided that that order was less than intelligent and restarted, this time with the roast beef at the bottom followed by the onions, the tomatoes, the roasted green peppers, and then the cheese. On the other piece of bread, he liberally swabbed it with mayonnaise (if it was low-fat, he could eat as much as he wanted, right?). Snape then splashed on the habanero Tabasco, emptying half of the rather large bottle.

Feeling pleased with his obviously superior sandwich making skills, Snape danced to Wild Honey Pie as he prepared his cauldron. He cavorted about, singing loudly.

"Honey piiieee, yeah. Honey piiieee, yeah. Dee dee dee dee, dee dee dee dee, dee-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee!"

He placed the big, black pot on its stand and conjured up a bunch of glowing, purple flames to heat the cauldron, which he had put a tablespoon of olive oil in. How gourmet.

After a few minutes of having a smirking contest with some of the devilish faces that lived in the violet fire (the Potions Master obviously won), Snape went over to the table and took the cheese covered side of the bread and placed it gently within the cauldron. He then put on the top and went to sit behind his desk and wait. Out of a secret compartment, which even Albus Dumbledore was not aware of, Snape pulled out a book of cartoons. A book of Dilbert cartoons.

After five minutes spent wickedly chuckling his head off, Snape was interrupted by his cauldron. "Your sandwich is ready, oh great and powerful master."

As Snape walked over, he thought about how teaching would really be much more gratifying if all of the students were as polite as his talking cauldron. When he opened said talking cauldron though, his mind left the fantasy of polite students immediately. His sandwich looked good, and as his rather large nostrils flared in ecstasy, he thought that it smelled even better.

Back at the work table again, Snape placed the bitter arugala lettuce and the black cracked pepper on top of the cheese, and then, on top of all that, he placed the mayonnaise and Tabasco lathered bread. The urge to bite into his sandwich right then and there was almost too much for poor Snape, but he resisted, for he was not quite done yet.

He reverently picked up and walked his darling sandwich back to the cauldron, and again, delicately placed it inside. He wanted his mayo warm; for ever since Snape was a small boy he had eaten it that way.

This time around, Snape was far too jittery with excitement to just sit and read Dilbert. Instead, he danced around the room to Martha My Dear fervently rubbing his hands together in anticipation. He hopped, skipped and jumped around. At one point, Snape even did a Scottish jig which somehow morphed into one of those Russian dances. He even got out his bottle of vodka.

Then, the moment Snape had been waiting for, when the cauldron said, "Your sandwich awaits you, sire."

In a mad dash unbefitting of Snape's potions master status, he ran to the cauldron and threw the lid off. There, on the black floor, lay the sandwich, all golden-brown and cheesy, just like Snape's mama used to make (well, almost, anyways, considering that she didn't use mass amounts of Tabasco). Conjuring a plate out of nowhere, Snape levitated his sandwich up on to it, and then brought it over to the long, white table. He breathed deeply for a few seconds, and then looked down and stared.

End flashback…

Snape kept his eyes fixed on the sandwich he had made with his own surgical glove covered hands. Then slowly, tentatively he reached out his hand to the sandwich. He slowly brought it up to his face, and then, Severus Snape prepared to bite.

THE END