The toaster whirled about sharply.  Its slots flared as it tried to
catch a scent; deep inside, tungsten filaments glowed an angry red, a
flare that deepened in menace as, on the toaster's front plate, a
lever moved inexorably from the "light" setting toward "dark".  Unable
to determine what had drawn its attention, the toaster relaxed,
although its power-cord, as if independent of the toaster
itself, continued to lash back and forth angrily.

Further up the counter, a loaf of bread lay perfectly still behind a
sleeping ceramic cookie jar.  A draft from a nearby window rustled the
bread's plastic bag, and once again the toaster flared its slots and
cast about.  This time the bread was unlucky: the toaster wheeled
again as the draft brought the bread's odor into its slots.  Confident
now that its prey was in range, the toaster began slowly but
confidently moving upwind.

>From its position behind the cookie jar, the bread could not see the
toaster, but it could sense, with every crumb in each slice and each
slice in the bag, the heat radiating from the approaching toaster's
slots.  Individual slices jostled within the bag, but the plastic clip
held and unity of purpose returned to the bread quickly.  As the
infighting subsided, however, the hum of electrified tungsten became
clearly audible, and the bread peered cautiously around one edge of
the cookie jar only to find itself pricetag-to-slot with the toaster.

The bread tried to dive back behind the cookie jar, but, before it
could get entirely under cover, the toaster's power-cord whipped
forward and knocked loose the plastic clip holding the bread-bag
closed; unfettered, the bread's unity was instantly lost as individual
slices scattered in all directions.  On the recoil, however, the
toaster's cord hooked the top of the cookie jar and sent it sliding
over the countertop until it hung almost halfway off the countertop, a
fragile ceramic disk suspended three feet above the cold, hard kitchen
floor.  Thus, even as the toaster reared up to its full height and
prepared to pounce upon the fleeing slices one by one, the
once-somnolent cookie jar awoke in a furious rage and gave forth a
thunderous roar, firing an army of stale oatmeal cookies up into the
air to rain down upon the toaster.

Across the countertop, the knife-block, lover to the cookie jar, heard
the jar's cry and gave out an answering wail; as its blades leapt
toward the toaster, the block itself began slouching toward the cookie
jar's lid....

------

Can a beseiged toaster fight off an army of kitchen knives and an
aerial assault of stale cookies, all while catching the fleeing bread
slices?  Will the knife-block rescue the imperiled cookie jar lid?
Can the bread pull itself together?  Will the sink take sides in the
escalating conflict?  Has your humble writer of GSB announcements been
ingesting unusual substances?  Find out the answers at tonight's...

****************** G I R L  S C O U T  B E N E F I T ******************
******************        5:30pm  7AI Playroom       ******************