On the bottom floor of a particularly modernistic and snazzy mall, a long line of people had assembled in front of a deli venue. The hour was late, and there was twisted line, spanning the width of the venue and back more than three times; much like the lines at a baseball stadium. The sandwiches being baked here were of the highest quality; with such tastes that only the most skilled of connoisseurs could truly appreciate.

Larfen, a man of large statue, waited behind about eight or so people in line. He had been waiting for quite a while, and was practically salivating at the options. Tomatoes, lettuce, bacon, cheese, garlic, onions, and so many more options to choose from (not mentioning the 8 different types of bread!), he was truly in awe. Though undecided on the particulars, he was ready to consume a sandwich of the best quality. He had fallen in love with the concept of the sandwich, in the time he had spent waiting for one. He lusted after that savory combination of bread, and assorted toppings. He desired and ached for that sweet fullness and the tastes of bread on his tongue, and the feeling of being sated.

Another five minutes passed, and a horrible, heartbreaking noise sounded through the crowd. The metallic clacking of steel shutters being pulled down by one of the deli employees. Larfen was third in line. The employee gave a terse, almost sarcastic apology, and quickly left. The people left in line were stunned. There was a silence, and an almost audible hunger that had been left unsatiated.

A noise emerged from Larfen's lips. A deep moan, full of despair. He would never get to eat that sandwich, of which he had spent what had felt like his entire life waiting for. He had loved this sandwich so sillily, which hadn't even been a single object, and now he had been punished for it. His hopes, his dreams, and his desires had been crushed as soon as the clack of the shutters had hit the ground. He moaned again, loud enough to gain the attention of his fellow patrons.
A man in a business suit gave Larfen a worried look.

Larfen was no longer on the plain of the living. He had descended into a realm of pure sadness. He mourned the death of his love. Worse, his love will never be created. His teeth pained, never to chew a sandwich. He imagined the soft, chewy bread, and the juices of the tomatoes on his tongue. He envisioned the oily, papery wrap surrounding and cocooning the sandwich. He released another deep, lusting moan.

Needless to say, they were startled and concerned. But after a minute, another, deeper pitched moan sounded. Larfen's moan had been received, and understood. This moan came from another, from deep within their heart and empty stomach. From somewhere else in the crowd, another moan had erupted. The message had been comprehended. Soon enough, a symphony of deep moans, full of lusting hunger, had begun. Those who were not moaning, began stifling giggles, but eventually even they were unable to contain their laughs.

Whenever there seemed to be an end to the moans, a pause or a break, another voice would clearly resound with a hearty, hungry moan. Two men, clad in black, with words written on their backs were approaching from a distance. The words written on their backs, in bright yellow, were "SECURITY STAFF." They were disturbed, and unamused. "Break it up, people", one of the men yelled. The crowd was silenced, and once again returned to a neutral state. Some quiet laughing was heard, and the crowd broke up. Larfen, still hungry, turned away from his lost love, and saw a white, neon sign in the distance. It read, "DELI: OPEN 24/7".

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Some liberties and ideas taken from Joseph Heller's "Catch-22".