A freewrite pop up contest by 
The Sandwich (written by
"Ugh! The bread is soaking wet! Bread is not supposed to be soaking wet!" he snarled at me as he spit a soggy mouthful of half-chewed peanut butter sandwich into a tissue. I stood at attention next to his bed. He handed the sodden and heavy tissue to me.
He was now vegan, grain free, nightshade free, lectin free, phytic acid free, and deaf to my feeble protestations. He was not free, however, from his acutely tuned palate, which was maddeningly different from mine.
He had requested a peanut butter sandwich. I knew meeting all his new diet criteria would be a bitch, but I rose to the challenge. I had to.
I chose a very small ten dollar loaf of 'bread' and bought it. I bought some raw peanuts. I shelled the peanuts. I soaked, sprouted, and dehydrated the peanuts. After very lightly roasting them, I ground those peanuts into peanut butter. I then very carefully smeared the freshly ground peanut butter onto the somewhat normal looking bread. I made sure to get the peanut butter to the edges just like I had learned in home economics class long, long ago.
I knew how to make a proper tea sandwich.
I now spent my life trying to make this man happy. I signed up for that didn't I? Wasn’t that my reason for being? To make this man happy?
Well, he was not happy with that sandwich.
The Sandwich Part 2 (Written by 
“The dark side is pathway to many abilities…..some consider to be unnatural.”
It was worth a try. There she was; waving her hand in front of her husband, my father.
“You really don’t hate this sandwich,” said my mother.
“I really don’t hate this sandwich.”
“You really love this sandwich.”
“I love this sandwich so much,” said my father. “I want more.”
I didn’t expect her to try something out of Star Wars. I didn’t even think she was a fan. I thought my father was more strong minded. I was wrong.
This continued, day after day, as my mother’s power grew. She would just wave her hand in the air and tell my father what he likes and what he doesn’t like.
Then, one day, my father’s best friend walked in and saw what was happening. He took him aside to explain that he was falling for an old mind trick.
“What can I do about it?” asked my father. “I didn’t realise that my wife watched so much Star Wars.”
“First of all,” explained my father’s friend, “I suggest you watch this movie. After that, I can assure you that your wife will never be able to use another mind trick.”
“What’s the movie?”
“The Stepford Wives.”
“What’s it about?” asked my father.
“You’ll find out," replied my father's friend. "We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
My father got up in the middle of the night to watch the movie. The next day, as planned, my father and his best friend met to discuss the film.
“Can you do this?” asked my father.
“No,” said his best friend.
“No? Why not? Why did you give me the movie?”
“Because you had to learn something,” replied my Dad’s friend. “You needed to learn, that your wife is the most amazing person in the world. You don’t need to change anything.”
“You’ve led me up the garden path, my friend.”
“Hahaha, I am not your friend. I’ve mastered the art of projection.”
There she was, my mother, talking to my father. Her power had grown even stronger.
She bought a special Star Wars toaster, which made one of the sides of the bread really dark. She even managed to use it during a recent power cut.
