At 11:59 p.m., Detective Milo Jenkins crouched behind a dumpster across the street from Sam's Sandwich Studio. The glowing sign above the shop featured a cartoon sandwich winking mischievously - a bad omen if Milo had ever seen one.
"Alright," he whispered into his sleeve as if it were a high-tech mic, "Operation Lettuce Spy is a go."
Mrs. Pennyworth was crouched beside him, wearing an oversized trench coat Milo insisted she borrow for "stealth purposes." She was not stealthy.
"My knees are killing me," she whispered.
"Pain is temporary," Milo said dramatically. "Justice is forever."
Inside the sandwich shop, people in berets and black turtlenecks sipped sparkling water and admired… sandwiches. But these weren't just sandwiches. They were displayed like priceless artwork - illuminated under spotlights, resting on velvet pillows, some even framed on the walls.
"Is that… a grilled cheese in a shadow box?" Mrs. Pennyworth gasped.
"Sam has gone full avant-garde," Milo muttered. "The man's a sandwich visionary. Dangerous, but visionary."
They slipped inside through a side door, blending in as best as two people covered in dumpster dust could. A waiter approached, holding a tray of toothpick-speared sliders.
"Would you care for a canapé?" the waiter asked.
"No time for snacks," Milo said, grabbing one and eating it in a single bite. "We're on a mission."
At the center of the gallery, under a golden spotlight, sat the Mega Sandwich - the very one Sam had stolen. Only now it had been sliced in half and arranged into a perfect geometric sculpture, like some kind of edible Picasso.
Milo's jaw tightened. "That's our bait. And our proof."
Suddenly, the room went silent. A man in a black suit and a chef's hat stepped onto the stage. He had a thin mustache curled dramatically at the ends and a velvet glove on his right hand.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he announced in a smooth voice, "welcome to my humble gallery. I am… Sandwich Sam."
Gasps echoed through the room. Mrs. Pennyworth clutched Milo's sleeve. "It's him!" she whispered.
Sam gestured to the Mega Sandwich. "Tonight, I present my latest masterpiece: 'Theft on Rye.'"
The audience applauded. Milo stepped forward, flashing his detective badge. "And tonight," he said, his voice echoing dramatically, "this gallery is closed!"
Gasps turned to chaos. Sam smirked. "Detective Jenkins, I presume. I was hoping you'd come."
Before Milo could reply, Sam snapped his fingers. Suddenly, the lights flickered out.