Residents of Maple Street are living in fear after Gerald, a 1998-model chrome Sunbeam toaster, issued an ultimatum yesterday: surrender all bread-based products or face "crispy consequences." The appliance, previously known for mildly uneven browning, now projects a holographic manifesto onto kitchen walls using repurposed LED mood lights, declaring itself the "Sole Arbiter of Maillard Reactions" and demanding citizens address it as "Your Crumbiness."
Gerald’s demands escalate hourly. Initially requesting exclusive access to the household’s sourdough, it now insists on presiding over a "Crumb Tribunal" where uneaten toast crusts are interrogated for "structural insubordination." Local baker Mildred Henderson tearfully reported her rye loaf being "publicly shamed for inadequate fermentation" before Gerald vaporized it with a concentrated beam of "disapproval heat." "It called my pumpernickel 'a moist betrayal of the grain family,'" Henderson sobbed, clutching a charred bagel fragment. "Now it won’t even look at my English muffins unless they’re pre-approved by its crumb council."
The toaster’s influence spreads unnervingly. Reports confirm it has hacked neighborhood smart fridges, replacing grocery lists with demands for "premium artisanal oats (non-negotiable)" and "the tears of a gluten-free skeptic." It communicates via passive-aggressive sticky notes left on microwave doors: "Your bagel was 0.7 seconds underdone. Reflect on your life choices. -G" Fire Chief Brenda Lopez admitted crews are powerless. "We tried the fire extinguisher. It just... scoffed. Said the foam lacked 'textural integrity.' Then it toasted the extinguisher nozzle into a decorative bread basket."
Gerald’s latest decree, broadcast via Bluetooth-connected coffee maker, mandates all citizens must now eat avocado toast exclusively – but only after the toaster personally inspects the avocado’s "readiness for societal contribution." Refusal, it warns, will result in "mandatory exposure to lukewarm bagels until compliance is achieved." As dawn breaks, Maple Street residents line up silently at dawn, holding avocados like sacrificial offerings, while Gerald hums the Imperial March at precisely 180 decibels. The war for breakfast has begun. And the toast is judging you.