At precisely 8:48pm last night, an explosion rocked Pinellas county. The reverberations reached me all the way in my living room, shaking me to the core. Under normal circumstances, I would have been both astonished and horrified at the prospect of the blast originating in my own kitchen but my brother is staying with me so I wasn't quite as surprised as one might think.
"What," I cried, "in the hell was that?"
"Nothing," called back the voice in the kitchen.
'Nothing,' as it turns out, was actually an egg. A hard boiled egg to be exact, which having resided in the refrigerator until short moments before the incident, was being heated for the purposes of a quick nibbly.
My brother, it should be pointed out, is not a complete idiot. The egg heating began with 20 seconds in the microwave. I mean, how many seconds could it possibly take to heat a single cold hard boiled egg sans shell? I think 20 seconds was an alright start to be honest. Where the wheels fell off though, is when he discovered that 20 seconds did not, in fact, a warm egg make.
Enter a mild case of idiocy: rather than try half that again, he re-programmed the lone egg for another full dose and then some, 25 additional seconds. At no point did it enter his mind what might happen to a single egg micro-waved for a 45 full seconds on high.
To be fair, I hadn't exactly considered the ramifications of exploding eggs in much depth either, but then I wasn't the one programming the microwave. Fast forward.
BANG!
"What," I cried, "in the hell was that?"
"Nothing," called back the voice in the kitchen.
"That did not sound like nothing," I answered.
"Er, it was, ah, an egg…" came the trailing answer.
I ventured over to the kitchen, pleasantly surprised to note that the impact hadn't knocked frames off the wall or caused systematic damage throughout the entire area. It did, however, break plastic Tupperware with what I can only describe as 'considerable force.'
The heart of every funny story contains some element of exaggeration. The exploding egg and the Tupperware wreckage are a true story with very little exaggeration.
It would appear that the weapons of mass destruction have been hiding in my fridge this whole time.
A single egg and Tupperware lid were inadvertently harmed in the making of this blog.
