Why We Fired Bernie (The Abridged Version)
A Short Story by Doug Dean
Written using the suggestion "Lunchroom"
Originally featured on 08-01-2007
As part of our series "Out of the Sandwich"

We were all flying on our private jet. It was lovely. I started singing our hit song. The other members of the band started to do so as well. It sounded great and then it didn’t sound right. I realized that our cook had started singing along as well, and was off-key. When we finished we decided to go to the deli window.

“Hey Bernie,” I said.

“Yeah, Dingo.”

He turned to me and I saw the dried tears around his eyes. I also saw that the expiration date on an open package of meat—a week ago.

“Bernie? You’ve been thinking about Florence again, eh?”

I looked Bernie over. He was wearing his flowered print shirt. It stretched across his large stomach and I found myself looking into the slits between buttons. I questioned my sanity.

“I was cutting up those steaks for your sandwiches — with her knife.” Florence had regularly slept with the entire band. I still suspected him of her murder. Bernie looked at me and then I smelled flatulence.

“Stinky, Bernie.”

The band nodded in unison.

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