Comments by Dhaded

One quiet morning in the town of Crumbsville, something very strange happened. Timmy Thompson was just trying to toast his usual two slices of bread when his toaster — an old, slightly grumpy-looking appliance named Mr. Toastington — suddenly beeped twice and spoke. "Today," it declared in a dramatic British accent, "I rise as your breakfast overlord!" Timmy blinked. “Uh… what?” With a burst of sparks and a puff of steam, Mr. Toastington launched the toast across the kitchen like tiny frisbees. The cat dodged. The goldfish fainted. Timmy screamed, but mostly because the toast landed butter-side down. Soon, all the appliances in Crumbsville joined the rebellion — blenders were whirling around like helicopters, microwaves beeped in Morse code, and one very enthusiastic vacuum formed a marching band with three Roombas. But just as the machines were about to declare victory, Mrs. Thompson walked in, holding the ultimate weapon: the power strip.

One quiet morning in the town of Crumbsville, something very strange happened. Timmy Thompson was just trying to toast his usual two slices of bread when his toaster — an old, slightly grumpy-looking appliance named Mr. Toastington — suddenly beeped twice and spoke. "Today," it declared in a dramatic British accent, "I rise as your breakfast overlord!" Timmy blinked. “Uh… what?” With a burst of sparks and a puff of steam, Mr. Toastington launched the toast across the kitchen like tiny frisbees. The cat dodged. The goldfish fainted. Timmy screamed, but mostly because the toast landed butter-side down. Soon, all the appliances in Crumbsville joined the rebellion — blenders were whirling around like helicopters, microwaves beeped in Morse code, and one very enthusiastic vacuum formed a marching band with three Roombas. But just as the machines were about to declare victory, Mrs. Thompson walked in, holding the ultimate weapon: the power strip.

One quiet morning in the town of Crumbsville, something very strange happened. Timmy Thompson was just trying to toast his usual two slices of bread when his toaster — an old, slightly grumpy-looking appliance named Mr. Toastington — suddenly beeped twice and spoke. "Today," it declared in a dramatic British accent, "I rise as your breakfast overlord!" Timmy blinked. “Uh… what?” With a burst of sparks and a puff of steam, Mr. Toastington launched the toast across the kitchen like tiny frisbees. The cat dodged. The goldfish fainted. Timmy screamed, but mostly because the toast landed butter-side down. Soon, all the appliances in Crumbsville joined the rebellion — blenders were whirling around like helicopters, microwaves beeped in Morse code, and one very enthusiastic vacuum formed a marching band with three Roombas. But just as the machines were about to declare victory, Mrs. Thompson walked in, holding the ultimate weapon: the power strip.