I was staying at the Holiday Inn, and they have a continental breakfast, which is very cool. You go down to the lobby looking like you slept in your Dockers and Members Only jacket. You have not shaved or showered, but that's OK. Everyone else there looks just as awful, except for the 81-year-old couple from Omaha. They've been up since five AM walking their Pomeranian that they snuck into their room. I know because I heard it growling most of the night.
Toast, cereal and orange juice sound great. Something not too heavy. Perfect. I don't have to drive anywhere and shower and dress first.
I put the bread in the toaster and wait. The retiree has a fishing cap on that reads "Jale Bait." Is this some kind of fishing lure that he purchased on television? Has he got a complimentary tee shirt?
The other people in the room consist of the following: a middle age business guy who looks much like me, reading the paper; a truck driver of some kind who weighs more than 300 pounds; a cute female next to whom I would like to go sit but I'm sure isn't single so I'd look like an idiot; and a few other sad souls.
We all smell something burning. There's smoke coming from the toaster. I grab a knife and stick it in to release the toast and am immediately shocked. The current goes up my hands and through my shoulders and I cannot release the knife for a couple of seconds. This is crazy. I didn't know a toaster could do this. My teeth begin to chatter and I scream, "Someone turn this thing off!"
They all sit there like I'm mad. No one expected a show during breakfast. Finally I am able to drop the knife and I lose my balance and tumble backwards, ass over teakettle, onto the floor. I land awkwardly and hit my tailbone. The pain is indescribable and I curl up and call out, "Ahhhh!" That damn toaster!"
By this time every eye is on me as I writhe in agony on the floor. Suddenly everyone there is concerned for me.
It takes a few minutes to get me up and when they help me to the sofa I lose control of my bowel. The mud pie squeaks out of my crack just before they lower me down. Now the couch needs to be steam cleaned.
This nice little breakfast has turned into a carnival. I've been shocked, bruised, and had my poop, and I haven't even had my breakfast. That toaster could be used for capital punishment!
-- Gloot Shoot