Well, well, well. If it isn’t Mr. foot long himself. You’re just going to walk back in, huh? Just like that? Don’t think I didn’t see what you’ve been doing, who you’ve been running around with. That’s right! Boy, I’m gonna toast your buns!
I saw you sleazing round with that Quiznos tramp. Don’t even get me started on that filthy local deli! And you must’ve been hitting the sauce hard when I saw you with that nasty Blimpie. You better wash those hands before touching me!
Maybe it’s the recession, maybe it’s my new toaster oven - either way, I knew you’d be back. I’m letting you in but don’t think I’ll forget. Just know this: if you leave again - the way you did before - you’re gonna go from a footlong spicy italian to a 6 inch cold cut, real quick!
Your spicy meatball mama,
Subway
