Where Have We Come From?

I, The Oven

I came from a humble home in the suburbs. My best friend was a table lamp named Photinus, who was the one who gave me my current name. Before that, I was just called 'Oven' .

But then I was replaced by a snooty "advanced" machine with a higher maximum temperature. I have no idea why Mistress did that, though. I suited her needs just fine.

Oh, you should have seen Elmo St. Peters trying to move me! He kept straining and straining, and I barely slid an inch! He ended up having to call his sister, who was actually able to get me to the shop. (Maria isn't nearly as fat as her brother, by the way).

I wonder how Photi is handling it. I wonder if my replacement is still operating. ("Cutting Edge'' machines tend to break or be replaced rather quickly).

A sudden shouting match between Ultra and Grid interrupts my thoughts. They're arguing about Fantom again. I think that fan left already, though. Ran off with Cassy and Mish-Mash.

Why must everyone fight? It's totally pointless, and they might be able to actually have some fun if they could tolerate each other's company. We all -would all- team up to do our song, and it always worked perfectly. (Except for the time when St. Peters walked in in the middle of it.)

"Woah!" I say to the bickering small appliances, my voice booming out. "We shouldn't be fighting now! Why don't you go find your Masters? Grid, doesn't yours live near here? And Ultra, the pool isn't that far either. I bet you both can be home safe in at most a few hours."

"GO AWAY!", they shout simultaneously.

Well, at least I've gotten them to agree on something.

Then they go back to arguing.

Where should I go now? Unlike some of my fellow escapees, I have no home to return to, no Master who might be excited to find me sitting on their doorstop.

I have nothing except my friends.

But they're definitely worth going back for.