"Look," I said to Mikey. "Are you hungry or not?"

My little brother nodded.

"Okay, well what do you want to eat?"

Mikey looked up at me pensively.

"How about soup?" I said, pulling a can of chicken noodle from the pantry shelf.

"Nuh uh."

"Hot dogs?"

He scrunched up his face in thought for a moment before nodding. "With lotsa ketchup!"

"Deal!" I said, taking the buns from the pantry and moving to the fridge. Uh oh, I thought, realizing we were out of ketchup.

"How about mustard and relish?" Mikey was a picky little kid when it came to food, and he loved his hot dogs one way and one way only, but I figured it was worth a shot.

"No! With ketchup! I want ketchup!" He stamped his foot, imitating the angry character he'd seen in some cartoon or other.

"Sorry buddy, but we're all out."

He made his patented frowny face.

I probably should've gone to the store. But I was off to start college at the end of the month and babysitting my little brother while our folks took a short vacation seemed like my last chance to be lazy for a while, so I'd been putting it off.

I dug deeper through the fridge, but pickings were slim. Nothing but leftovers, and Mikey hated leftovers, even more than he hated hotdogs without ketchup. I was wondering just how long some of things had been in there when I had an idea.

"Uh oh..." I said, leaning into the fridge so it looked like I was reaching well past the actual back of it. "Oh no! Mikey! They're back!"

Mikey was still frowning, but I could see his curiosity getting the better of him.

I pretended to start struggling with something unseen.

"What is it?" he finally asked. "What's back?"

I yanked a half-carved ham-hock out of the fridge. "The hideous hambeasts of horror!" I waved the ragged piece of meat around like it was trying to attack me and I was fending it off.

Mikey jumped.

"Quick, squire, my sword! Fetch me my sword!" I pointed at the knife block on the far counter.

Mikey started to smile when he caught on. I mimed more of a fight with the beast, eventually slamming the ham down on a cutting board. Mikey handed me the large carving knife, and I made a show of stabbing the ham several times.

As the hambeast struggled slowly, I warned Mikey about the curse. "We let it sit too long uneaten, so it has returned to its beast form to seek revenge! We must perform the cleansing ritual!"

"Like a magic spell or somethin'?" Mikey asked.

"Exactly! Quickly too, before it reawakens."

"What do we do?"

"You must quest for the three magic elements to bind it: Holey cow juice, spongy wheat squares, and floating green circles!

He scrunched his face in thought again, then his eyes lit up and he ran to the fridge. He came back a second later, triumphantly holding the package of Swiss cheese over his head like a trophy.

"Excellent work, squire! Now quickly, open it!"

He tore into the package, handing me a slice, and I slammed it down on a piece of severed ham, making the hissing and squealing noises of a spell subduing evil.

It didn't take him long to find the bread, and we quickly bound the ham in it. The pickles took a tad longer for him to figure out, so as we fished out the slices, I let the ham came back to life, attacking me. I fell to the floor, the sandwich "biting" at my jugular. "Ugh... it got me, Mikey. It's up to you now. You have to finish things. Pickle it!"

He shoved several wet and still dripping pickle slices onto the thing twitching at my neck, getting juice all over the floor and my shirt as well. I hissed and growled as the hambeast, and then everything was still.

Mikey bent down beside me. "Alas, I am done for," I said. "You must take on the mantle now." I coughed and wheezed for show, before putting my hand on his shoulder. "I dub thee... The Earl of Sandwich. Take this," I shoved the world's ugliest, most mashed and mangled sandwich into his hands. "Eat it all, and never let the beasts return!"

Mikey grinned and took a huge bite.