His sister was meddling. Always meddling, it never stopped. Turning the milk sideways in the fridge and dumping out the day-old onions. Those were for tomorrow's hot dog.
She caught him. Caught him with his pants down. His figurative pants. It was his hands that were dirty, elbow deep in a sewer - a sick, all too real version of Dirty Jobs. A bad boyfriend, he had three jobs, two girlfriends, and only one sandwich - it was the sandwich that pushed him over the edge. Salami, no cheese - where was that plunger. She knew he had to have cheese. She punished him for lack of success and now there wasn't any cheese on the sandwich. But he's hungry and one sandwich can't be split three ways. Two girlfriends - he sees the genius now. Pushed to the brink, forced to decision, twisted in an angry knot of delusion and emo angst. One of the girlfriends had to go. There would never be enough salami to go around. And so she won, yet again. She orchestrated what would forever be known as - "The Split."