“The Floppy Toast”, Buttersafe2012-04-24 (humor, tech)⁠:

The Floppy Toast

The morning started off the way that every morning did
A small meal and cup of joe to perk up drooping lids.

But when it came to making toast,
Today was not a copy.
Even after it emerged,
The toast was hella floppy.

He tried and tried to make the toast
Become what it should be,
Yet every time the timer stopped
It popped up floppily.

He simply couldn’t understand this strange phenomenon,
And so he tried to get some facts by calling up his mom.

“That’s stupid weird”, his mother offered, somewhat groggily.
“But you’re a grown up dude. Why don’t you solve this without me?”

So he decided he would take
His toast into the doctor,
Who hopefully would find a way
To make it much less softer.

“Though floppy human body parts
Can be firmed up with pills,
Alas your loaf’s not stricken with
Those special types of ills.”

“It seems your toast must have been cursed,
By magics dark and bleak,
And so a magic answer to your problems
You must seek.”

“Mt. Crazy-Hot is home to dangers
Quite antagonistic,
But at the summit lives a very helpful
Wise old mystic.”

What choice had he except to scale this ancient no man’s land?
His breakfast problems had already gotten out of hand.

He tucked away his floppy toast,
And started on his way.
His muscles burned first from the climb,
And then burned from the flames.

With every step the fires licked
His body up and down
Which frankly did not nearly feel
As sexy as it sounds.

And then from the inferno rose a creature of the deep
Who did not seem too happy to be woken from its sleep.

Long time the manxome foe he pondered, brewing strategy
Until the monster chose to force his hand more rapidly.

An incendiary breath is
Quite the motivator,
To run like hell and save your clever
Plans for some point later.

And so he ran and ran and ran
And ran and ran and ran
And ran and ran and ran and ran
Then ran into a man.

“You must be the mystic with the culinary talents!
You’ve got to help me sir! My morning toast hangs in the balance!”

“No matter how I tried,
Its floppiness was unimpeded.
Were my methods lacking something
That was absolutely needed?”

“Though I am wise, perhaps the one with answers here is you.
Look upon your meal again, you may see something new.”

And lo, he did produce it
For his enigmatic host
But no longer was it floppy!
’Twas the perfect piece of toast!

The oils he secreted from his skin
Amidst the climb
Had soaked into the slice
As if a butter most divine!

And after in that butter
It had practically been drowned
The scorching flames transformed it
To a crispy, golden brown!

“Perfection comes through hardship,
A truth hidden from my eyes.
This cursed toast revealed it.
’Twas a blessing in disguise!

Despite the difficulties,
Through my journey I stayed strong.
It seems that the perfect toast
Was inside me all along!”

“I’m glad this loss has awakened
Wisdom from within.
And next time you can simply think
To plug the toaster in.”