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Chocolate pop tarts are flammable, too.
Of course, I have long been aware that Strawberry Pop tarts could be made to ignite. (For those who have never seen a flaming pastry, look here.)
This morning, however, when I sat down to read my friends' journals, cup of coffee in one hand, and Chocolate Fudge Pop Tarts in the toaster, I thought I smelt smoke. So I turned around and saw whisps of very dark grey smoke issuing from my kitchen. So I immediately scoot the chair backwards and leap to my feet (note: do not try this while wearing nothing but sweat pants if there is a cat in your lap). Ignorning the pain and the flying cat behind me, I rush to kitchen (about four steps, it's a small apartment), to see my toaster engulfed in flames, with the aforementioned dark grey smoke billowing from it. Trying my best to reach around the flames, I pull the plug out from the wall, then shove the whole thing into the sink using a handy fork. (Cuz remember, whenever there's something wrong with your toaster, it's best to poke it with a fork). I look under the sink, where the fire extinguisher was, before remembering that that was two apartments ago (remember I've barely started on my coffee at this point). Noticing that the flames were almost out at this point, I opened the door and finished blowing them out. Using the aforementioned fork, I was able to drag the shriveled smoldering pastries out of the toaster and into a pan filled with water, which I had cleverly not removed from the sink the previous night.
So then I turn my attention to the smoke. Open all the windows and grab the broom to wave it away from the smoke detector so I don't wake everybody in the building up. Only to discover that there is no smoke detector. I thought they were supposed to come with the apartment. Hm. Oh, yeah, I'm real prepared. OK, two more things on the shopping list. No, three, I need a new toaster now, too.
This morning, however, when I sat down to read my friends' journals, cup of coffee in one hand, and Chocolate Fudge Pop Tarts in the toaster, I thought I smelt smoke. So I turned around and saw whisps of very dark grey smoke issuing from my kitchen. So I immediately scoot the chair backwards and leap to my feet (note: do not try this while wearing nothing but sweat pants if there is a cat in your lap). Ignorning the pain and the flying cat behind me, I rush to kitchen (about four steps, it's a small apartment), to see my toaster engulfed in flames, with the aforementioned dark grey smoke billowing from it. Trying my best to reach around the flames, I pull the plug out from the wall, then shove the whole thing into the sink using a handy fork. (Cuz remember, whenever there's something wrong with your toaster, it's best to poke it with a fork). I look under the sink, where the fire extinguisher was, before remembering that that was two apartments ago (remember I've barely started on my coffee at this point). Noticing that the flames were almost out at this point, I opened the door and finished blowing them out. Using the aforementioned fork, I was able to drag the shriveled smoldering pastries out of the toaster and into a pan filled with water, which I had cleverly not removed from the sink the previous night.
So then I turn my attention to the smoke. Open all the windows and grab the broom to wave it away from the smoke detector so I don't wake everybody in the building up. Only to discover that there is no smoke detector. I thought they were supposed to come with the apartment. Hm. Oh, yeah, I'm real prepared. OK, two more things on the shopping list. No, three, I need a new toaster now, too.