My toaster oven is a thing of beauty.
Most of the time.
Actually, come to think of it, it's not that pretty on the outside. It's old and crusty and rusty and the front window is covered in some kind of grease. But it has a good heart. I think.
You see, the two of us get along quite well, for the most part. It heats things up beautifully! It's easy to control, and doesn't require any time at all to preheat. I can roast hot dogs in it without needing a grill, cook fish sticks without firing up the stupid oven (which is like "I need at least half an hour before I can even start cooking, missy!"), toast bagels with ease... Pretty much anything you can name.
Unfortunately, it isn't always benign.
I think it might have all started when I accidentally set it on fire.
"How do you 'accidentally' set something on fire, Miss Monday? That sounds pretty intentional to me!"
All right, smarty, I'll tell you.
See, when I was younger, I would toast bagels in it with a paper towel under them. I don't know why I thought this was a good idea, or even necessary. Anyway, most of the time it worked okay... Then, late at night, as I opened it and reached for my delicious bagels...
The paper towel caught fire.
I shrieked and ran around some and had enough sense to douse the flames with a glass of water, but my bagels were ruined. It was very sad. The toaster oven was okay, but I don't think it ever forgave me for setting its mouth on fire.
A toaster oven is a subtle appliance. It gets its revenge in ways that are not easy to recognize as malicious. For example, I will occasionally assemble a tasty row of frozen fish sticks inside and turn it on, then wander off for about ten minutes, waiting for when I have to turn them over. Upon my return, I find them still frozen, and realize that the toaster oven has somehow unplugged itself!
This probably has nothing to do with the certain someone living in the household that considers the toaster oven dangerous and likely to explode if left plugged in. No, it is clearly a plot on the part of the toaster oven to delay my dinner!
Sometimes, though, it lets them be cooked. This is only a ploy to trick me into being harmed, rather than just inconvenienced. You see, there is a strange little metal slat just inside the door, right at the top. It is positioned in such a way that if someone jerks their hand back suddenly (say, when their fingertips are scorched by the tinfoil), they will come in contact with a superheated mass of metal. This makes every attempt to retrieve or turn food incredibly perilous. Why, the other day, I burned, actually burned my pinkie finger! In two separate spots! There was sickening white skin over worrying red and everything... It hurt like the dickens, too!
Fortunately, the day was saved by a magical burn lotion left over from a long-ago visit to the beach. It turns out that it works just as well on regular burns as it does on sunburns.
Foiled again, toaster oven!
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