The next morning, Maggs came into the kitchen to get some breakfast, something she rarely did. She popped an english muffin into the toaster and began to talk to it.
"You know, I think you are the coolest thing in the world." she said sweetly. "You do so much for me...and I love you with all of my steely, cold heart that was procreated by government officials."
"Yeah, yeah," the toaster replied.
Maggie stood in amazement. "Holy...you talked!"
"Duh," the toaster replied. "Do you think I just sit here and don't listen to you praise me every morning while I cook you a bagel?"
"Um...I was never really sure," Maggie said uneasily.
Sarah came bounding in, a bluebird sitting on her left shoulder and a baby deer at her heels. "Good morn to you, oh fair toaster," Sarah said, curtsing in such a manner that she accidently sat on the fawn and the bird got scared and flew out the window. "Bloody hell," she cursed unhappily.
"Damnation," agreed Maggie sadly.
And then...IT happened...
"WHY DON'T I GET ANY PRAISE?!" the coffee pot screamed.
Maggie and Sarah both jumped about 11.21 feet into the air. "Oh my God! It spoke!" Sarah shrieked.
"Well duh!" yelled the coffee pot. "Why shouldn't I talk if the toaster can talk?"
"The toaster can talk?" asked Sarah.
"The toaster talks," Maggie said.
"I talk," the toaster piped in.
"So do I," said the coffee pot.
"The coffee pot talks," Sarah said.
"The coffee pot talks?" asked the toaster.
"The coffee pot talks," Maggie said.
"The coffee pot talks?" asked their mother, coming in. "What?"
"Um, just kidding," Maggie said meekly.
Their mother picked up the coffee pot, and the girls winced. "Mom, careful," Sarah warned.
Their mother then poured the coffee and set the pot down with a bang. The coffee pot screamed.
"What was that?" she asked.
Sarah started coughing really loud, "Dust," she explained between hacks.
Their mother nodded. "Okay, well take something if you can't stop," she said, leaving the room.
"That was close," muttered the blender.
"Since when do all you appliances talk? I must be dreaming," Maggie said, pinching her arm as hard as she could.
"Ow!" she cried.
"Nuh uh uh," the refridgerator scolded. "Self inflicted wounds will make them think you're crazy."
"Stop it!" Sarah cried.
"Can I sing you a song?" asked the microwave.
"No!" Sarah shrieked.
"Then I will," said the oven. "Take this pink ribbon off my eyes, I'm exposed and it's no big surprise, don't you think I know exactly where I stand, this world is forcing me to hold your hand!" it sang.
"Oh I'm just a girl, all pretty and petite," the clock sang in a terribly medly of wrong notes.
"You skipped a line," noted the coffee pot.
Maggie and Sarah frantically ran around, leaving only the toaster and the coffee pot unplugged. "Toaster! After all the worship we have bestowed upon thee, you can't protect us from the evility from these every day kitchen appliances?"
The toaster let out a long sigh. "I'll make a deal with you. Eleven Hail Toasters and Twenty-One Our Toasters and you1ll never hear another sound from them again. Deal?"
"Hey!" cried the coffee pot. "What about me?"
"Sorry, buster, if one goes, you all go," the toaster said unsympathetically.
"Why do you worship the toaster?" whined the coffee pot. "Why can't you worship coffee pots?"
"Hail Toaster, full of heat, thou art our Lord. Blessed are thou amongst appliances, and blessed art the grains of thy little slots. Holy Toaster, mother of all, pray for us anorexics, now, and at the hour of our death. Amen. I don't hear anything about coffee pots in there," said the toaster.
"Not fair!" wailed the coffee pot.
At that moment, five Men in Black stepped into the kitchen. Maggs and Sarah backed up against the table, terrified.
The men took the coffee pot and threw it on the floor. They covered their ears to the awful sound of a coffee pot screaming in agony until finally, the Shadowiest of the men stomped on it, and it shattered, it's misery coming to an abrupt halt.
Maggs and Sarah raised their eyes to the men, terrified that they might be taken away for more tests and potato withdrawels. But instead, the men simply looked them over, gave them each a pair of pin-on-wings, said, "Thanks you for flying Delta airlines!" and left.
Their mother came in and looked at the coffee pot for a long time. "Where's my coffee?" she asked quietly.
Sarah motioned to the puddle of dark, muddy liquid. "Right there."
"Aqui," Maggs translated, bending down and putting one finger into the mess.
Their mother proceeded to smash her head up against the wall in distress. "My coffee," she wailed. "Now I'll be bitchy all day!"
Maggs and Sarah screamed and grabbed onto each other for dear life, for their mother was bitchy even with coffee...God help them...
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