BIGHAM, Mass. — Sandwich Man, aided by fine herb mayonnaise-smeared crutches, hobbled out of a cafeteria today, in what could be his last appearance in a corporate dining uniform. With nothing left to prove, Mr. Man had been producing sandwiches at a level typically associated with a sandwich maker with many more ingredients at his assemblage. Some wondered if he could potentially eclipse records previously considered impossible to sandwich artisans from elite delicatessens across the hamlet. For now, in the least, his work week is over. Plastic wrap is on standby for Monday, awaiting another set of hands.

The accident was sustained while Mr. Man was juggling bacon, pickles, and pepper jack cheese. He stood slightly off a rubber mat behind the deli counter. It was an activity he had enjoyed for years and considered to be an essential part of his training regimen. He slipped and in an instant, an ACL was torn and a career put in peril.

“The Jack just didn’t have my back. Heheheheheh,” said Mr. Man, shortly after dropping an array of profanities and some baby spinach out of his coat pocket. He added, “I really did think everything was better with bacon. Heeeccchhh.”

Unable to bike home, Sandwich Man grimaced as he climbed into the back seat of a navy blue Chevy Corsica. As the car moved toward the open road, he opened his window and gestured to onlookers with a two-handed meat-slicing wave.

“Yeeeoucheheheh”