A/N- I'm uploading each chapter to my DA account. Look for them under DarklyFantastic.

A/N 2- This is the final tale based off a true story (kinda)

12- Can't Stand the Heat (The Stove)


The stove stumbled into the center. "Excuse me, please." The other appliances quickly darted out of the way. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"Um, err, I'm Cooke," he said. "And I guess it's my turn to tell my story."


Cooke once lived in the house of an Italian grandmother. She was an excellent cook. Lasagna, spaghetti, Chicken Parmesan. All dishes that Cooke aided in creating.

Her relatives came over every Sunday for massive home-cooked meals. Those were the finest moments in Cooke's life.


"Do you realize your door is open?" Sharpe asked.

Cooke blinked twice. "Oh, sorry." He paused. "Wish I could taste those dishes though."


Mistress was getting on in years and had to have her son clean up around her house. Her son was a hardworking guy who smelled faintly of cigarette smoke. He also loved to clean.

Perhaps a little too much for Cooke's taste.

The living room. The kitchen. The Bathroom.

The other appliances loved the cleanliness, but Cooke found it a little excessive.


"What? You got clean." Sharpe said. "You should've liked it.

"That's what did me in," Cooke replied. "Master was a bit too clean."


Master grabbed a sponge and some cleaning liquid. The last spaghetti dinner had made quite a mess of Cooke's impeccable surface. He began cleaning the stains off Cooke, but some water must've gotten into the stove. The whole kitchen lost power.

Master cursed under his breath and rushed to the circuit breaker.


"I shorted out the kitchen, and possibly the rest of the house."


Master had to fork over a good amount of money to get his mother a new stove. Cooke had a look at his replacement as he was being dragged out. A shiny one.

"How long will he last?" Cooke wondered. He found himself on a truck headed for somewhere. Perhaps a dumping site?

No. It wasn't the junkyard. It was some shop a few miles down the road.

Workmen carried him out of the truck and into the shop.

"Ooh, big guy," an eerie voice uttered. Cooke looked to his left and found a small popcorn maker. "Welcome!"