By Dan Suptic
“Crap, no! Stop!” he cries, but it’s far too late. The fire is all-consuming, turning its prey into a pile of charred lumps. “What? Are you kidding me?” he yells, but again, there’s nothing to do. The boiling water is pouring out, hissing when it contacts the cool metal below. “Dammit, come on!” he screams, but this vocal outburst is in vain. A loud bang is heard from inside the device, and through the viewing window he can see that the innards are caked with hot, caustic sludge. He sighs, completely defeated. Making spaghetti and meatballs is harder than he thought.
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