Title: The Toaster Incident
Characters: John, Sam, Dean
Classification: kidfic, pastfic, ficlet
Rating: General? K+?
Warnings: None
Word Count: 616 words
Disclaimer: I own nothing Supernatural. I used to own this exact toaster.
Summary: "The man can barely work a toaster." John Winchester vs appliance.
Translation Available - Russian. Linked at bottom of Fanfic Index Page
Originally posted May 23, 2006 at fanfiction.net

The Toaster Incident
by CaffieneKitty
- - -

What the hell kind of toaster doesn't have a button you push down? It sat on Pastor Jim's counter, glinting malevolently. Two slices of stubbornly untoasted bread stuck up from the top. John had turned the thing around three times, looking for a button to make it accept the bread. "Automatic toaster," read the engraved letters on the top, "Drop bread in slot to activate." John picked up the bread from one slot and dropped it in again. There was a faint twangy noise, but the toaster refused to do a damn thing. He picked up and dropped the other slice. Nothing.

This was pointless. Why in hell did bread have to get toasted? Bread was cooked already. Throw a slice of baloney or whatever on it, fold it in half and eat it. No one ever got sick from eating raw toast. But Pastor Jim had been feeding the boys toast and jam in the mornings while their father had been busy elsewhere. It being Sunday, Pastor Jim was the one busy elsewhere and John would be damned if he would be defeated by a mere kitchen appliance.

If it was a weapon, he'd have had it figured out in five minutes, tops. John pondered the idea. Would approaching the toaster as though it was a weapon help? Maybe the bread was the wrong calibre. Maybe the toaster had a switch to take it off full auto. John picked up the toaster, looked at the bottom. No switches of any kind, except the crumb tray release. Not going there again.

He put the toaster back down on the counter, checked that the damn thing was plugged in for the twentieth time, pushed down on the bread directly. It sprang back, distinctly bent, and no more toasty than before. Muttering a few words he was certain were rarely heard in the preacher's house, John bounced the bread up and down in the slot a couple times. Sproingy noises. Pushed the temperature control all the way up, replacing the relatively mangled slice of bread with a fresh one, dropping it in the empty slot next to its fellow bread slice as directed. Nope.

As he glared at the shiny metal toaster, he saw a small movement in the background of the reflection. He turned around to see 8-year-old Sammy standing in the kitchen doorway in his pajamas. The little grin on his face told John that he hadn't just arrived. Dean skidded up to the doorway in his PJ's and sock feet.

"Morning boys," John rumbled.

"Morning," giggled Sammy.

"Morning," said Dean, "Um... You making breakfast Dad?"

He was slightly pained by Dean's tone, which implied John making breakfast was a close kin to John dancing the lead in Swan Lake, but it was only natural, really. When they weren't couch-surfing at someplace like Pastor Jim's or Caleb's, Dean usually handled food prep. At that thought, John told himself it wasn't a defeat, it was a tactical maneuver to let the more experienced reinforcements take over the field.

"No time, sorry boys. You'll have to fend for yourselves." He grabbed his coat from the hook by the door. "Pastor Jim should be back from services by noon, I'll be back by two. Don't give him any crap or you know I'll hear about it."

"Yessir," the boys chorused, Sammy with a lingering giggle, Dean with almost entirely suppressed relief.

While John tied on his boots in the mud-room, he watched the boys. Dean rummaged in the Pastor's pantry for jam, Sammy pulled up a kitchen chair, retrieved both slices of bread from the toaster, dropped one in one slot with a click, then dropped the other one in, and smirked as the bread crept down into the toaster.

- - -

(end)



--
Notes on "The Toaster Incident"

Many people have asked about the automatic toaster in this piece. This is based on one I owned in the early 90's (manufacturer's name withheld so I don't get sued). There was no button to push down, it was supposed to start up when you put bread in it. A switch inside one slot would trigger if a piece of bread was dropped on it. The thing is, if there was bread in the other slot at the same time, it weighted the innards of the toaster such that the switch wouldn't work. I don't know why, something to do with circuits and gaps, probably.

The way to get it to work was to drop (from a height of a few inches) a piece of bread in the correct side while the other side was unloaded, then once the switch had clicked, drop in the other piece. The bread would creep slowly down, then creep back up. It was... creepy. I think the concept was to have a toaster that didn't disturb late riser's sleep with a 'ka-chunk' noise. Personally, I'd have preferred an occasional 'ka-chunk' to the violent cursing my then-roommate inflicted daily on the poor beast. It actually wasn't really that uncooperative if the user a) had read the manual, b) knew which slot was correct, c) was capable of spatial reasoning before coffee and d) had the patience of a minor saint.

The toaster is sadly no longer in existence, and while I don't have any hard evidence, I suspect its demise involved my then-roommate, some cement stairs and a 10 pound splitting maul...

Addendum: Someone out there nominated "Toaster Incident" for a 2006 Lawrence Award under "Best Comedy"; but it was eliminated in the run-off voting. It's still really flattering that someone nominated it, though. Thanks whoever you are!

Tags: fanfic, ficlet, humor, kidfic, pastfic, supernatural
Current Mood: aggravated
Current Music: "You Don't Remember, I'll Never Forget" ~Yngwie J. Malmsteen