When Syrup Goes Bad

I’m scared to go into my kitchen. Last night, I opened the fridge and noticed that the bulb had burned out. No big deal, right? Well, I reached in to grab a gherkin and from out of a darkened corner Mrs. Butterworth jumped me. Naturally, I freaked! She tried to pin my hand down and I think she was going for the Rolex.

I just barely managed to escape, but my hand was sticky with maple syrup and my nerves were rattled. I mean, you don’t expect that kind of behavior from common breakfast foods. The only explanation I can come up with is that the eternal darkness made her go mad.

“What to do? What to do?” I was beside myself. I guess I could have called the cops, but how do you explain something like that to the 911 operator? Strange as it may seem, I had to accept the fact that the authorities might not believe me.

“911, what is your emergency?”
“Yes, hi, my maple syrup just tried to mug me.”

After reflecting on the possibilities, I decided to handle it without the gendarmes. They have such limited imaginations.

How to proceed? I knew I would need some help, but where to turn? After looking through the cabinets I came across a couple of stout characters that gave me reason to hope. Under the sink I found the muscular Mr. Clean standing there like a beacon of goodness in his bright white t-shirt. Behind him was the Brawny Lumberjack clad in a flannel shirt and holding an axe.

So I enlisted these two heroes to restore order to my kitchen with every confidence in their abilities. I opened the fridge only as far as needed, tossed them in and slammed the door.

Well, there was a terrible commotion for several hours. Some of the lesser condiments were screaming to get out, but after a while everything calmed down. Just to be safe, I left it alone overnight.

This morning I got up and went to the kitchen to fix breakfast. Everything seemed normal, but I needed milk for my cereal. I opened the fridge just a crack to peak inside and discovered that Mrs. Butterworth remained at large.

She was wreaking havoc all about the fridge and the place was a disaster zone. Mr. Clean and the Brawny Lumberjack were cowering behind her like prison bitches and cleaning up the syrup spills. It was pathetic, really. I just closed the door and sealed it up with duct tape.

As I sit here now, I’m just trying to determine which cabinets to remove so I can fit another fridge in my kitchen.