Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Microwave Love: The Triumphant Return (And Eggs)

Gasp! An article series I last worked on ages ago!

If you want to read the earlier articles in their original order, here they are: "THE FUTURE," "Safety and Microwaves," "Hot Sandwiches," and "Bacon, Sausage, Baked Potatoes, and Popped Corn." I won't be offended if you do, it's been a while. (At least check out Hot Sandwiches; it has one of the greatest sentences I've ever written in it.)

Anyway, let's get down to this: Today we're talking about eggs.


1. That big egg there. That guy. Look at that poor egg.

This is a guy who is not happy with his life.

He tries, desperately, to smile as he's called upon to mutilate his anthropomorphic egg brethren, to tear away their shells so that some goofy lightning bolt wearing a toque can stab them with a fork so that they can be shoved into a microwave to cook alive.

Be thankful you aren't that egg, engaging in painful drudgery, always wondering... Will I be the next egg to go?

...Um, wow, that got a little dark there.

2. Kinda funny-that egg getting stabbed is the only little foodling I can recall being unhappy about any part of the cooking process as long as a microwave was involved.

3. That little egg next over. He's ecstatic to be in that microwave, as low-frequency photons stream through his body, exciting his internal fluids into an intense boiling state. The smile freezes on his face as he gains release, release from this existence as a sapient foodstuff. The lightning bolt looks on, delighted as always, as he carries the dish to his always unseen, sinister master.

...I don't even know what that was.

4. Don't have much to say about the bottom pair of images; at this point, I'm so far down the hole of weirdness that it somehow seems normal that a lightning bolt is pouring oil onto some kind of steaming-hot surfboard-shaped cooking implement, while another pair play peekaboo from behind their great graven idol of the kitchen.

Poached eggs:

1. The title says "Poached Eggs." The bowl, being filled with water, sitting in a puddle of blood, tells me another story.

2. Inside that dish, we see yet another comparison between being irradiated by electromagnetic waves that raise one's internal temperature to boiling and basking in the rays of the sun. What did I tell you last time, guys?

3. The lightning bolt stirring the remains of that eggling with a fork is the most stressed out I've ever seen any of these toque-wearing weirdos so far.

4. As always, keep in mind that the times given by this booklet are unlikely to correspond with your microwave. Different models and individual microwaves can run quite differently from each other. /PSA


...Guys? Guys? Are you okay? Did incautious egg cooking prematurely end your bizarre toque-wearing careers?

Obviously, a bit got cut off, but that's the fault of the booklet's printer, who clearly wasn't paying attention to where these particular letters ended up on the page.

Anyway, join me again next week when I talk about hot coffee and other drinks.

-Signing off.

No comments: