THE THAUMIC OVEN
Owen Burgoyne
Ponder Stibbons, who had been working feverishly away in Unseen University's High Energy Magic Building, could feel the heat of a red hot stare on the back of his neck.
"Can I help you, Archchancellor?" he asked.
"Now listen here Stibbons, I hear you've come up with some new-fangled way of cookin' food using magic. The Dean was tellin' me about it over lunch - somethin' about half the time it takes to cook a chicken," said Ridcully.
"That's right," said Ponder. "I call it the Thaumic Oven." He stood back to reveal a small box with a glass-panelled door on the front. To the side of the door it had two small dials and a large button. "It uses magic particles to heat the food up to a high temperature in an incredibly quick time. You can make cups of tea in it in less than a minute."
"You can make cups of tea in less than a minute with a kettle," said Ridcully. He was not impressed.
"Well ... you can use it to re-heat leftovers without burning them," he ventured.
"Leftovers?" queried the Archchancellor. "I've heard of those. Aren't they made of cabbages?"
"Generally, Archchancellor," said Ponder. "Anyway, I managed to procure this un-cooked apple pie from the kitchen this morning." He held up a pie dish with an anaemic-looking pastry lid. "Now, if we put it in here," he said, opening the door, "and turn the timer knob to about two minutes and turn the power knob up to full..." He closed the door and turned to the Archchancellor. "If you'd like to do the honours, sir."
"Eh? Do what?" said Ridcully, lost amongst all of the technical jargon about knobs and things.
"Push the button."
"Oh. Right." Mustrum Ridcully stabbed a large pink finger at the button on the Thaumic Oven, stood back, and watched.
Inside the Oven, a small light came on and the pie slowly rotated on a little wooden turntable. As the timer carried on, the pie began to give off an octarine glow.
"So, it's bein' cooked is it? A whole pie in just two minutes?"
"That's right, Archchancellor," smiled Ponder.
As the Thaumic Oven reached the end of its timer, it said bing.
"Bing?" said the Archchancellor. "It just said bing!"
"Er, yes. It's got an imp inside that says bing when the time's up."
"Couldn't you have just used a little bell?"
"Well, I thought eventually I'd try and make it talk to people. You know, give them instructions, that sort of thing."
"That sounds a bit too much like one of those Disorganizers to me. Not long and people'll be chuckin' them out the window."
"Would you like to try some of the pie, Archchancellor?" said Ponder quickly.
"What a damned silly question! Science is hungry work, my lad - no point not eatin' if you're hungry, eh?"
"Quite." Ponder opened the Thaumic Oven and took out the pie.
It was steaming.
Ridcully sniffed the air. "Mmmm. Made with Green Billets, if I'm not mistaken." He looked expectantly at Ponder. "Go on then, cut me a piece."
Taking a knife, Ponder carved out a large slice of the apple pie, placed it onto a plate and handed it to the Archchancellor.
The steam rose in front of Mustrum Ridcully's hungry eyes. "Well," said Ridcully, "it seems to have worked. Much better than that idea of yours about using magical particles to send information at high speeds all over the place - that'll never catch on." He took a small bite out of the slice. "By Blind Io's eyes, this is bloody hot!" he exclaimed, as the offending piece of pie shot out of his mouth onto the back of Adrian Turnipseed's neck.
"It has just come out of the Thaumic Oven."
Not to be deterred from eating, Ridcully tucked in again, and began to shovel the hot apple pie down his throat. He stopped half way through. "Ipf fold!"
"Pardon?"
Ridcully swallowed and began again. "It's cold! It's all cold in the middle! You said it could cook it in just two minutes and it's still cold!"
Ponder tried a mouthful of the remaining pie. "I wouldn't say cold exactly. More ... tepid or luke-warm."
"Not bloody cooked is what I call it!"
"Well, it's obviously the thaumic particles," Ponder tried to explain. "They must have heated the pie up so much, that the temperature went right through the other side and ended up cold again. That's the only reasonable explanation."
"The only reasonable explanation, Stibbons," said Mustrum Ridcully, "is that once again you've come up with somethin' that doesn't actually work."
With that, Ridcully turned around and headed to the Great Hall for dinner.
Well, what did you think? For an off-the-cuff idea, it's not too bad. Of course, it's hardly what you could call a story, more a little bit of creative fun. Nonetheless, I'll probably find a use for it (I think it'll be quite good for an opening passage for a story).
Now just wait for the little piece I wrote about a certain imp-based stress-relief toy manufactured in the Agatean Empire...
