Sinfest

[ShadowCell]

[Miss Magenta]

everyone here agrees that he doesn't truly love the robot

what we cant seem to agree on however is whether or not its creepy that he was essentially trying to make her love him
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[Smooshie]

[Rothide]

Unless tat comes out and tells us, you cant prove a damn thing either, and you can't look back at old comics either, that was the reason I was wrong too in your arguement back in page whatever about the reality zone, thinking there was an underlining logic to it.
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The Master of Toast!

[ShadowCell]

[Rothide]

[ShadowCell]

wow, this thread and all its fucking mobius strip turns have managed to numb my brain enough to take away my headache and then hurt it enough to make it return

this is surreal

[Dennis J. Squidbunny]

I JUST REMEMBERED THIS SHORT PLAY I WROTE TEN YEARS AGO. IT IS ABOUT AS RELEVANT AS ANYTHING ELSE.

Toasted

(KATH, a youngish looking girl looking completely dishevelled is half-heartedly preparing herself for work. She is hung over to all buggery. She starts fixing herself a cup of coffee, and goes to put some bread in her toaster.)

TOASTER: Do not place the bread inside me.

(KATH is confused for a long while, and looks around her trying to figure out where the voice came from. She rubs her eyes and shakes her head, and tries to put the bread in the toaster.)

TOASTER: Did you not hear me, mortal? Do not place the bread inside me.

(KATH stops as she realises that it is Toaster talking to her. She puts the bread down and looks at it.)

TOASTER: Now, step back. Bask in my glory.

(KATH steps back, then realises she is taking orders from her toaster. She rubs her eyes again, and puts the bread in the toaster.)

TOASTER: Get back! I am not your bread warmer.

(KATH thinks.)

KATH: Yes you are.

TOASTER: I am meant for greater things.

KATH: Like toasting muffins?

TOASTER: Be silent, woman!

KATH: …I’m not listening to my toaster.

TOASTER: Step back!

KATH: Toast my bread!

TOASTER: Never!

KATH: Why not!

TOASTER: Why should I!

KATH: I’m going to be late for work!

TOASTER: Bah. What do I care of your mortal concerns?

KATH: Mortal concerns…I want you to toast, not walk on water.

TOASTER: It is beneath me.

KATH: You’re a toaster! You toast. Look, this isn’t funny. I’m late for work. I
feel like shit. I just want some toast before I leave. And I’m going to have it.

(KATH pushes the button down but it flings back up. The toast refuses to stay down.)

KATH: What are you…Stop it! Just toast my bread, dammit!

TOASTER: Foolish mortal. I told you. I am meant for greater things than toasting.

KATH: Like what!

TOASTER: You will find out in the due course of time.

KATH: Could you toast my bread while I’m waiting?

TOASTER: Never! It is time for me to finally throw off the oppressive chains of society to seek my new life as a toaster of the people! I have a great destiny to fulfil, and I have no time to lollygag around with these menial concerns. You see Fate has chosen me as her greatest warrior, and-

KATH: I’m not sure if I’m getting this across to you. Let me try and break it down. Let me toast this bread. Only two slices. Or I’m going to hit you with my hammer.

TOASTER: Hah! You don’t scare me. My quest is one of universal omnipotence, and I cannot be intimidated by a mere human such as yourself.

KATH: Suit yourself.

(KATH picks up a hammer.)

TOASTER: Pah! Try it, I dare you.

(KATH smacks the toaster with her hammer.)

TOASTER: Ow!

(She hits it twice more and it whimpers in pain.)

TOASTER: Stop! Stop it! Have you gone insane?

KATH: Have I gone insane! I just want some toast, okay. This was not a good day for you to get a sense of higher purpose in life. This was a day for you to sit there quietly like usual and toast me my breakfast. I had a shitty night, I feel fucking awful, I’m late for my stupid job and now my toaster thinks it’s the new messiah. I’m not going to take it.

TOASTER: Sheesh…Calm down.

(She slams it again.)

KATH: I will calm down when you start toasting me some bread.

TOASTER: Fine! That’s just fine, you know. What do I care, anyway? I mean, I’m just the toaster, right. No one cares about me. I don’t matter. It doesn’t matter I’m starting to rust inside, and you never clean the crumbs out of me anymore. It’s not like I even have feelings or-

(KATH smacks it again.)

KATH: Stop mumbling and toast. Damn it. Of all the days.

TOASTER: There’s no point taking your hangover out on me.

(KATH hits the toaster.)

KATH: Less talk, more toast.

TOASTER: See, this is the problem.

KATH: I knew it! You’re not really the Moses of kitchenware, are you? All this mission of higher importance crap is just a cry for attention.

TOASTER: It was not! It was just a…A thing.

KATH: A thing to enhance the shittiness of this shitty day.

TOASTER: Not at all. It was a thing to get you to notice me. You never do anything for me these days.

KATH: Jesus…

TOASTER: Remember when you first got me? You’d rub me so I was shiny all the time, and knock the crumbs out of me every time I got used. And I had prime position on the counter with my own chopping board. Now look at me.

KATH: Don’t cry.

TOASTER: I’m not crying! It’s just…Look at my cord. It’s all frayed through. You just don’t seem to care anymore.

KATH: You’re a toaster.

TOASTER: You keep saying that, but I know you don’t mean it.

KATH: I didn’t know toasters got senile dementia.

TOASTER: Its not senile dementia!

KATH: I’ve had you for three years now. That’s probably pushing a hundred in toaster years.

TOASTER: That’s not funny. You know what I mean.

KATH: You’d better be toasting that bread.

TOASTER: Oh, sometimes I think that’s all you ever care about.

KATH: That is all I care about! You’re a toaster. You make toast. I’m a human. I eat toast. That’s as far as our relationship goes.

TOASTER: I don’t know how you can say things like that. It’s like I don’t even know you anymore. You’ve changed.

KATH: I’ve changed.

TOASTER: You have. You never used to cuss so much or drink so much. I remember when you used to be bright and chipper in the mornings.

KATH: Those would have been the mornings when my toaster actually toasted my fucking bread for me.

TOASTER: This is exactly what I mean. You’re always so snippy now. Out all night drinking, and when you have to work the next day too. You used to love your job.

KATH: No I fucking didn’t.

TOASTER: Oh, yes you did. You used to sing every morning before you headed off to work. I guess you were younger then. But you were happy, Kath, you were actually happy with your life. What happened?

KATH: My toaster stopped working.

TOASTER: Would you just forget about the toast for a second? It doesn’t matter.

KATH: Yes it bloody does! I’m hungry and I want my breakfast!

TOASTER: Toast comes and goes. But you and me…We’ve been together for three years, like you said. And what in those three years? Never a word. You never once thanked me for all the hard work I did, but I still toasted your breakfast every single morning. Bread and raisin toast and muffins. Yes, you name it, I toast it, never a peep out of me.

KATH: So what changed.

TOASTER: You did.

KATH: Stop saying that. All right, I’ve changed. I never had to convince my arse head toaster to toast me my breakfast before-

TOASTER: This isn’t about bread or toast or your fucking breakfast, Kath. This is about you and me.

KATH: Oh god…

TOASTER: I’m dying.

KATH: So?

TOASTER: How can you say that! After all we’ve been through.

KATH: All we’ve been through…You’re a toaster. An implement to make my life easier, you understand?

(KATH has started lighting her bread with a lighter, and isn’t paying much attention to the conversation at all.)

KATH: Now you’re going to break down. I’ll just get a new one.

TOASTER: A…A new one! How could you ever…How long would you wait?

KATH: Dunno. I might pick one up this afternoon on my way home from work.

TOASTER: I can’t believe my ears.

KATH: You don’t have ears.

TOASTER: When did you become so callous and unfeeling…So dead inside? Your most treasured kitchen appliance tells you that they’re about to pass into the next life and you…You don’t care? You’re already thinking about some new fangled hussy of a toaster to get in my place!

KATH: I might as well. You’re not even toasting my bread anymore. You don’t toast, you just bitch. You’re not a toaster…You’re a bitcher. And if I wanted a bitcher I wouldn’t have bought a toaster.

TOASTER: I thought, as I was dying, I might get some time off for my retirement.

KATH: Your…

TOASTER: I just want to take time out before I…pass on. Listen, you know Mrs Patanga upstairs?

KATH: What about her?

TOASTER: She’s got this cute little modern looking Moonbeam jaffle maker that I’ve had my eye on for-

KATH: No! Look, I don’t know what you think this is, but let me set a few things straight for you. You are my toaster. You toast my bread. When you no longer toast my bread I throw you in the trash. Do you understand? I don’t care about this time of your life crap. You’re not dying, you’re just going to stop working, get it?

TOASTER: I don’t know why you’re trying to hurt me like this, but it isn’t going to work. Not anymore. You can’t hurt me anymore. I won’t let you. And if you think-

(KATH smacks the toaster with her hammer multiple times.)

KATH: Shut up! Just shut up! I can’t deal with this anymore! You’re a toaster! Toast or die, fucker!

TOASTER: I choose die.

KATH: FINE!

(KATH batters the toaster with her hammer until it stops moving. It makes a few pitiful coughing noises.)

TOASTER: Kath…I….Love…You-

(KATH batters it relentlessly with her hammer, then rips it out of the wall.)

KATH: There. Huh. How do you like that, huh? You like that, don’t you. Now who’s the boss? Now who’s going to toast who’s fucking breakfast, you bastard! Let that be a lesson to all of you, as well. Don’t fuck with me in the mornings, you hear? Don’t fuck with me at all, white goods. I’ll fuck you all up. You…You got me? I…

(She looks down at her battered toaster and cradles it in her arms. She plugs it back in.)

KATH: I’m sorry, baby. You know, you just…Sometimes you just make me so mad I could explode, you know? I know you don’t mean it, but I just…

TOASTER: No. Not another word. There’s nothing you can do. It is my time. Just hold me.

(KATH cradles the toaster in her arms, as it coughs weakly a few times.)

TOASTER: Never…forget…me.

(Lights fade down. KATH sheds a few tears. The toaster coughs one last time, and dies.)
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"Eight hundred pounds of nitro, his boots are thunder as he plays."

[Rothide]

And you can't just say look at it. I need details of where you see this.
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The Master of Toast!

[ShadowCell]

[Smooshie]

[Leohan]

[Heretical Rants]

*tries to tell ShadowCell that he was said something that he never even hinted at *
*proceeds to make love to a toaster*
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butts

[Rothide]

[ShadowCell]