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(Cut to a bakery. Jared Fogle, the Subway guy walks in.)

JARED: Excuse me, miss.

BAKERY OWNER: Whoa. Aren't you that Subway guy who used to be a big, fat slob? What's the name... Jerry?

JARED: Jared. Hi. Uh, is there a restroom here?

(Cut to Jared sitting on the toilet, passed out)

JARED: Uh, I must've passed out from the strain of pushing that enormous log out of my butt.

(Cut to the bakery. It is closed, and nighttime.)

JARED: Did my dookie fumes clear out the whole bakery?

(Jared struggles to open the door, but it is locked)

JARED: I'm locked in! I'll be here all weekend with nothing to eat but--but-- So delicious. No! I must stay on my diet. I'm a corporate spokesman, hero to millions. I must--I must--

(Jared jumps behind the counter and scarfs down the confections, and howls like a wolf. Then cut to the bakery. It is a mess, with food on the walls and floor. Jared is lying on the floor with a very large gut.)

JARED: (farts)

BAKERY OWNER: My bakery! It's ruined! I only locked up ten minutes ago! I'm calling the police.

JARED: Wait a minute. You don't have to call the police. Heh. We can work this out like--

(Jared snaps her neck, then grabs a piece of cake. Cut to static.)

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