In which Robert Robus consumes a sandwich

And now, let it be concluded among the perspicacious that I, Robert Robus, shall now consume a sandwich. For yesterday Tartar, in his usual insolent fashion, proceeded to state that I, Robert Robus, ate sandwiches with a frequency that was contemptible for both its rarity and, in no small measure additionally, the enormous spans of time which were allowed to elapse in between instances of my engaging in such esurient, though surely (since Tartar says so) desirable courses of action. And so, amid heads of lettuce, piles of slices of tomato, and various other materials of which sandwiches are generally agglomerated, I proceeded to compile said concatenation of edible substances.
And now I am lifting the sandwich from its place on the plate; and, oh, folks, this is glorious! For I, Robert Robus, am about to consume an enormous sandwich, and--oh, no! This cannot be happening, dear readers! For, as I speak, the contents of the sandwich--which, incidentally, I had smashed together with insouciant insouciance as I prepared said eating accoutrement for consumption not two minutes earlier--are now leaving the confines of the two slices of bread in which they had previously been ensconced! This is a disaster, folks, on the order of a major natural disaster such as the eruption of a nearby volcano or a flood! What shall I, Robert Robus, do?
Long pause.
I know! I think I'll attempt to prepare an omelet without turning on a single burner of the stove! Yes, that's it, dear readers! That is what I, Robert Robus, shall now proceed to do! And indeed, do tune in next time for more adventures from the fantabulous annals of the spectaculescent blog of I, Robert Robus. Until next time, dear readers!