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Chaos Erupts on Northwestern Ave. As Students And Olds Battle Over Subway and Jimmy John’s

On Saturday, students and staff gathered up and down Northwestern Ave. to settle the age-old argument: Subway or Jimmy Johns?


After years of the two most popular American sandwich chains being positioned right next to each other on Purdue’s campus, the time to decide which one truly is the best is now.

“My problem with Jimmy Johns is that they pretend to be this cutesy establishment, with their wall stickers and all that garbage,” says the manager of the Subway next door, who wishes to remain anonymous. “But in reality, they’re just as corporate as the rest of them. Why do they need a theme? Subway doesn’t have a theme. We have, like, random photographs of tomatoes on the wall and shit, but we don’t have a stupid list of rules for eating our sandwiches.”


Saturday’s events began peacefully, with the older crowd hovering near Subway,  millennials near Jimmy John’s. Events quickly took a turn for the worst when an altercation broke out around noon and loaves of day-old bread were used as rudimentary clubs.


A full-blown riot and street fire ensued, comparable to a typical day in downtown Chicago.


As the day wore on into the evening, the commotion remained fresh, unlike the vegetables that Subway keeps on display. “People began duct-taping Jimmy Chip bags to their hands to box each other, which was counterintuitive and stupid, but also hilarious,” recalls Sarah Slate, witness of the Northwestern “Sandwich Day” massacre. “I think I saw my physics professor take a jumbo pickle to the face at one point.”


“Anytime I see someone biting into a Subway sandwich, I imagine them biting into the hopes and dreams of those poor young children that Subway front man Jared Fogel so dastardly ruined,” comments the campus-wide and over-excitable feminist icon Mary Smith. “If you eat at Subway, you deserve to rot in jail with Mr. Five-Dollar-Footlong. We should have seen it coming with a raunchy menu item name like that. Freaking ew.”


In the end, the armada of Jimmy John’s delivery bikers, who are known for powerhouse calf muscles that fly them up Chauncey Hill multiple times each day, destroyed the crowd of old people standing around Subway with their stale cookies.

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