Just an excuse to show a picture of that hot, hot, hottie housewife Jane . . .
Just this afternoon the National Evil found himself standing before a microwave at the office, straining his eyes to find the START button amid a sea of options hitherto unsuspected by his truly. A marvel clusterfuck of technology and democratic choice, today’s microwave. But all the Evil wanted to do was heat up his stinking sammich. On that note:
We keep hearing stories about futuristic appliances wirelessly communicating with your computer network to . . . to . . .
OK. So it’s never been explained exactly why you’d want your fridge to tell your PC you’re out of milk. The important thing is, we’ve finally come to acknowledge that the modern kitchen sucks. But networking your appliances sounds (a) expensive, (b) pointless and (c) not very fun.
For these reasons (among other, secret ones), the National Evil today presents a few simple improvements to existing appliances that would make the kitchen, if not the best room in the house, at least better than the laundry room.
1. The “Blast Off!” Microwave: As bemoaned above, microwave keypads are getting more and more complicated. Time was you had 10 digits, a Start and a Stop. Maybe a Clock feature. Now there are buttons for nuking potatoes, popcorn, frozen pizza, leftover pizza, hot pockets, etc. The Evil agrees with taking the work out of microwaving, a.k.a. “remedial cooking”, but lost among the shuffle has been the Start button, which should be much more inspiring. You’re about to have cooked food, goddammit! The dream of hundreds of generations of your ancestors, who hunkered in caves and gnawed the marrow out of mammoth femurs—and now, in 30 seconds, you get steaming Chinese! With this in mind, Evil proposes a huge, springy, bright red button labeled BLAST OFF! When pressed, the microwave shudders . . . a 3-2-1 countdown commences . . . and then the roar of massive thrusters launching hot food onto your palate.
2. The “CryoFridge”: A simple proposal: think of every movie you’ve seen in which a government agency/alien entity/supervillain opens a shiny steel door, usually after performing some security clearance motions to gain access to the alien body/human body/superweapon inside a dark chamber. What happens? First you get that ominous “ksssssssssh” sound as the door whispers open. Then an eerie, icy blue fog spills forth before revealing the miracle/horror/cryogenically-frozen animator within. Why should you not experience the same effect when daring to open your fridge to see if those Chinese leftovers (see above) are still good? Or if they’ve attained consciousness and a malign will. What would it take but a speaker and a fog machine?
3. The “Shoot From the Hip” Toaster: This one seems almost too obvious not to exist—the side-loading toaster. Pop your bread in, set your plate next to the toaster, and clap with glee as it spits two charred rounds onto said plate. In fact, for the price of small upgrade, you can add a condiment-gun that squirts delicious Duke’s mayo between the slices as they shoot toward your plate.
4. The “Mouth of Hell” Oven: As a child, the Evil loved turning on the oven light and watching cheese melt and bubble, searing the broccoli in the broccoli-cheese casserole with tasty magma. As an adult, though, watching broccoli suffer no longer gives the Evil such a thrill. Humans, on the other hand? Huh boy. So: A special screen over the oven window that superimposes the screaming, burning damned over the casserole, devil’s food cake, or Christmas ham roasting within. Try not to drool. Tell yourself they deserve it. Tell yourself your mouth is watering not over the suffering of the damned, but over the honey glaze . . .
5. The Laser Carving Knife: Seriously. No—seriously. The first working laser was invented in 1960. Almost 50 years later, we still don’t have access to this technology for carving meat? The Evil isn’t asking for super soldiers armed with plasma rifles (not until fiscal 2011). Just a simple knife that happens to actually be a laser.
Check back next week as the National Evil excoriates the modern linen closet . . .