As is ritual when I'm hungry, I made a sandwich.

I then attempted to eat said sandwich.

"Spare me!"
.... I looked around though the sound was directly in front of me. Before I could even look back to the sandwich, I heard the voice again.
"Spare my life, and you will be rewarded."
It occurred to me that the only 'life' I could be taking was indeed in my very hands. No time to question sanity, I instead questioned the apparently sentient midnight snack.
"Why?"
"Why what? Why be rewarded? Ha! I have riches beyond your imaginati--"
"No, why is it that your life has priority over mine? I created you, after all."
"Ah, well. Ahum. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Prince Samuelton the Third! If you wish to settle this in a noble manner, then call upon a sport of your choosing. The victor holds right to the other's life."
I didn't like the idea of an edible entity taking my soul. I don't really enjoy anything edible that speaks, to be honest.
I looked over to what was going to be my next destination: my Wii.
"Well, I've chosen my 'sport'. How bout a round of Brawl?"
I'm not sure about this, but I thought I saw it grin. Also, when we were passing the pantry, I thought I heard a muffled "Get em, Alex!". Not sure, though.

I chose my fighter -- an American jackass with tazer knees.
He chose his -- a girly, yet noble swordsman.
The fight ensued.

"Well, clearly there was some miscalculation. An error of sorts."
"No Johns."

"Surely, you jest! You see, my kingdom had called during the match, and --"
"No Johns."

"Marth wasn't my main, anyway."
"No Johns."

"I'm used to the Melee variety of the game, myself."
"No Johns."

"I would like to see you deal with pressure of two hungry hounds waiting to feast upon you!"
"No Johns."

"This was indeed the nefarious workings of the Baron Kibblesworthy, Barbaric Ruler of the Salami!"
"No Johns."

"Best two out of three?"
"No Johns."

"I will not succumb to such an act of tomfoolery!"
"No Johns."

The End.