30 seconds: still a Pop-tart
45 seconds: lukewarm Pop-Tart
57.3 seconds: only acceptable Pop-Tart temperature
1 minute: oh fuck I burned one corner somehow
1 minute 15 seconds: brittle crust; magma center. Cannot safely be moved.
1 minute 30 seconds: Pop-Tart is on fire…
Here’s where our stories diverge:
2 minutes: I see reflection of flames on fridge door from living room, ask “Is something on fire?”
2 minutes 15 seconds: Owner of house wanders into kitchen.
2 minutes 30 seconds: Owner of house slides toaster oven out from under upper cabinets.
3 minutes: I ask if he has baking soda in the kitchen.
4 minutes: Fire is out, but toaster oven is full of baking soda.
4 minutes 30 seconds: Owner of house takes barbecue tongs and non-chalantly tosses still-smoldering Pop Tart out back door, into snowbank.
5 minutes: I start cleaning toaster oven before anal-retentive roommate gets home.
15 minutes: Anal-retentive roommate gets home, thanks me for cleaning his toaster oven.
Three months: Melting snow reveals burned husk of Pop Tart on back porch of house.
Fin.
