So for a few days, the toaster sat quietly and read a book at night. His sides had a dull look and he filled up with crumbs. In the kitchen the clock ticked and the fan whirred and the refrigerator hummed contentedly. They ignored the discomfort of their little silver friend.

Finally, on a Saturday night, all polished and gleaming, the toaster could sit still no more.

"Gotta dance!

"Gotta sing!"

"This is nuts." The refrigerator made ice so loud it almost woke up the people.