Twelve eager eggs; Seven scintillated stock cubes; four favourable milk drums; other such objects; On a Saturday morning they all waited expectantly in the basket to see the land beyond, the new world.
It forked out a lot of knives to be a knife this fork, not to mention all of the spooning in between. But as you may have drawn from my addressing of it as a fork, it still didn’t quite feel like a knife.
“Step into my fortress,” says the microwave, the evil auctioneer, conductor of particle transportation. And many did.
Sam was a bin, and a tragic sort of character. His friend Watson always managed to diet so easily, using the recycling diet, (a very popular method) whereas Sam just couldn’t control himself.
If ever there was a bad-ass in the kitchen it was the toaster. It was a nutcase.