Contemporary story
On

Professor Panini

Before my many years' service in a restaurant, I attended a top science university. The year was 2023 and I was finishing the project that would win me my professorship. In the end, it resulted in my becoming a kitchen employee.

My forty-second birthday had made a lonely visit the week before, and I was once again by myself in the flat. Like countless other mornings, I ordered a bagel from the toaster. 'Yes, sir!' it replied with robotic relish, and I began the day's work on the project. It was a magnificent machine, the thing I was making - capable of transferring the minds of any two beings into each other's bodies.

As the toaster began serving my bagel on to a plate, I realised the project was in fact ready for testing. I retrieved the duck and the cat - which I had bought for this purpose - from their containers, and set about calibrating the machine in their direction. Once ready, I leant against the table, holding the bagel I was too excited to eat, and initiated the transfer sequence. As expected, the machine whirred and hummed into action, my nerves tingling at its synthetic sounds.

The machine hushed, extraction and injection nozzles poised, scrutinizing its targets. The cat, though, was suddenly gripped by terrible alarm. The brute leapt into the air, flinging itself onto the machine. I watched in horror as the nozzles swung towards me; and, with a terrible, psychedelic whirl of colours, felt my mind wrenched from its sockets.

When I awoke, moments later, I noticed first that I was two feet shorter. Then, I realised the lack of my limbs, and finally it occurred to me that I was a toaster. I saw immediately the solution to the situation - the machine could easily reverse the transfer - but was then struck by my utter inability to carry this out.

After some consideration, using what I supposed must be the toaster's onboard computer, I devised a strategy for rescue. I began to familiarise myself with my new body: the grill, the bread bin, the speaker and the spring mechanism. Through the device's rudimentary eye - with which it served its creations - I could see the internal telephone on the wall. Aiming carefully, I began propelling slices of bread at it. The toaster was fed by a large stock of the stuff, yet as more and more bounced lamely off the phone, I began to fear its exhaustion.

*

Toasting the bread before launch proved a wiser tactic. A slice of crusty wholemeal knocked the receiver off its cradle, and the immovable voice of the reception clerk answered. Resisting the urge to exclaim my unlikely predicament, I called from the table: 'I'm having a bit of trouble up here, Room 91. Could you lend a hand?'

'Certainly, sir. There's a burst water pipe on the floor above, I suppose I'll kill two birds with one stone and sort you out on the way,'

The clerk arrived promptly, leaving his 'caution, wet floor' sign in the corridor. He came in, surveying the room in his usual dry, disapproving fashion. I spoke immediately, saying I was on the intercom, and requested that he simply press the large button on the machine before him. 'This one, sir?' he asked, and before I could correct him, the room was filled with a terrible, whirling light, and he fell to the ground.

A minute later he stood up again, uncertainly, and began moving in a manner that can only be described as a waddle. The duck, meanwhile, was scrutinising the flat with an air of wearied distaste. I gazed at the scene with dismay. Suddenly an idea struck the clerk, and with avian glee he tottered towards the window. I spluttered a horrified warning to no avail. He leapt triumphantly from the balcony, spread his 'wings' and disappeared. I would have wept, but managed only to eject a few crumbs.

←2→

*

Hours of melancholy calculation and terrible guilt gave no progress, and left me with a woeful regret for the day's events. Determined not to give up hope, I began to burn clumsy messages into slices of bread, and slung these desperate distress calls through the window. I sought not only my own salvation, but also to account for the bizarre demise of the clerk, who must no doubt have been discovered on the street below. I soon found my bread bin to be empty, and sank again into a morose meditation.

A large movement shocked me from my morbid contemplation. Before me, having clambered up from the floor, stood my own body. It regarded me with dim cheer.

'I have been upgraded,' it announced in monotone. The room was silent as I struggled to cope with this information. Then:

'Would you like some toast?'

The truth dawned on me, and I wasted no time in seeing the utility of this revelation. I informed the toaster, which was now in control of my body, that I wished it to fetch help. It regarded me warily, then asked if I would like that buttered. Maintaining patience, I explained the instruction more thoroughly. I watched with surreal anticipation as my body of forty-two years jerked its way out of the flat. It rounded the corner, and there was a hope-dashing crash. It had tripped up on the 'caution: wet floor' sign. To my joyous relief, however, I heard the thing continue on its way down the corridor.

Minutes passed, then hours. I entertained myself flicking wheat-based projectiles at the cat. On the dawn of the third day, I concluded that the toaster had failed in its piloting of my body, and that help was not on its way. Gripped by the despair of one who must solve the puzzle of toaster suicide, I resigned myself to my fate.

Pushed on by a grim fervour, I began igniting the entire stock of bread. As the smoke poured from my casing, and the first hints of deadly flame flickered in my mechanisms, I began the solemn disclosure of my own eulogy.

←3

Suddenly the fire alarm leapt into action, hurling thick jets of water across the flat, desperate to save its occupants. A piercing wail erupted from all sides, and a squabbling mixture of annoyance, relief and curiosity filtered into my mind.

*

Once the firemen had visited and deactivated the alarm, I was identified as the fault, unplugged and hauled away to a repair shop. The staff there, finding nothing to remove but a faulty speech chip, apparently put me up for sale. I only know this because, on being reconnected to the mains, I found myself in a shiny, spacious kitchen. Missing my electronic voice, I could only listen to the conversation of the staff, discussing the odd conduct of their new cook. The end of their hurried discussion heralded his arrival. I gazed at the door in silent surrender, as my body stepped proudly on to the premises, displaying its newly designed menu. At the top of the list I could discern 'Buttered bagel'.

Options

Introducing your ereader mobile app!

Manybooks

Get The Best Reading Experience

App linkApp link

Rate this story:

Average: 4.5 (4 votes)

Comments

Submitted by admin on Wed, 05/05/2010 - 17:24

Permalink

good

Submitted by admin on Wed, 06/30/2010 - 16:40

Permalink

I dont find it absurd. There is humor all over but the premise of a mind being complete and vital without having to be part of a particular body is not absurd.

The experience of the apparent dissolution of the observers body into pure mind can be achieved by normal people thru a variety of methods. Some methods are quicker than others.

I found the plight of the man minded toaster to be very real and sad. The story benefited from all the humor because of the potential for lopsided despair on the readers part. As the concept of being trapped in a toaster can send the head whirling about how torturous it would be and overshadow the idea of existence and its mysterious persistence.

Existence and Persistence. Two interesting things.

Submitted by admin on Sun, 07/04/2010 - 11:15

Permalink

Overall, the story was terrible. The main idea was OK but the events were rushed. The one redeeming moment was when the duck (now in a mans body) jumped off the balcony.

Setting in "the year 2023" was pointless and actually served as a distraction. It could have been a wacky scientist with an advanced invention today, or the year could have remained an unspecified amount of time in the future.

Submitted by admin on Thu, 07/22/2010 - 07:46

Permalink

Zzzzzzzz..!

Submitted by admin on Thu, 08/19/2010 - 20:21

Permalink

The story is told in an interesting perspective of a professor who was transformed into a toaster after the unfortunate encounter of an experiment gone wrong. It is from a first person point of view so the readers can experience more sympathy for the professor. The story is also vivid and effective in conveying how the dangers and disadvantages of high technology.

Submitted by admin on Thu, 08/19/2010 - 20:26

Permalink

I really like your story, it sounded so real with vivid imagery and it makes me feel as if youve really experienced it before. The story is very descriptive, and hence it makes me want to continue reading more. If it was a story with a happy ending i think itll be better. :D

Submitted by admin on Thu, 08/19/2010 - 20:27

Permalink

It should actually be a tragedy as the scientist didnt get back his body but instead the author was able to portray it with humor. Also, the description of the duck-turned-man jumping off was rather interesting, to say the least.

Submitted by admin on Thu, 08/19/2010 - 20:31

Permalink

ok good

Submitted by admin on Thu, 08/19/2010 - 20:39

Permalink

This story had a boring start, but evolved into a pretty good piece of writing.

There were some repeated ideas along the way which lessen the effect of the introduction of that new idea. Quite disappointing. However, I do think that this can be a story used to serve as a reminder to all of us, not to rely too much on machinery.

The ending felt a little disconnected to me. Although this is a considerably well-done piece of work, the beginning and ending thwart the whole impression of the write.

Submitted by admin on Thu, 08/19/2010 - 21:24

Permalink

The descriptions were fine, but the overall plot was terrible. The personas voice was too obvious - it gives off a amateurish, rushed feel. Overuse of the pronoun I overrides the inner voice of the reader and, by doing that, cuts off any imagery that might arise. Instead of feeling like a story, it felt more like words strung together. The reader is not given a chance to imagine. How does the Professor look like? Other than that skimmed description of the toaster, we have no idea how Professor Panini looks like and acts.

The plot. Firstly, stating the year - that alone is not needed. By stating the year the reader is distracted and it, once again, cuts off the flow of the story. An ideal storyline should flow seamlessly. The stating of the year, by itself, is a big crack in what should have been a fine flow.

Submitted by admin on Thu, 08/19/2010 - 21:36

Permalink

This story is fresh and cool. the introduction to the story is a typical science-fiction beginning. But it still aroused my curiosity when the setting happened to be in 2023. Good introduction!
But towards the middle of the story, it is a little typical and expected.
Although the ending was not exactly the normal happy ending, it wasnt too morbid as well. Ending was interesting

Submitted by admin on Tue, 08/24/2010 - 12:18

Permalink

I thought this story was entertaining as well as a little humorous that a professional professor got himself stuck in a toaster! I thought you could have added more onto it and elaborated more on how he was going to get back into a normal human body. The ending was brief however; the story was very enjoyable and kept me reading

Submitted by admin on Thu, 08/26/2010 - 13:46

Permalink

the story is the worst thing i have ever read in my
entire life it is alright but the man is always going on
and on about his life its just so irritating i mean like
he need to hink of how other people feel now i see
why he was lonly on his forty second birthday its my
13th birhday today and i happy and havent noone told
me happy birthday but do i go puttuing every one else
down by complaining no i dont so he shouldnt
niether. But like i said its alright but its just not all
that he needs to make it interesting

Submitted by admin on Wed, 10/20/2010 - 04:43

Permalink

Fantastic, right up my street. Its clear that a lot of thought has gone in to the twists and turns of the plot, and personally I prefer a good old tragi-comedy over a saccharine happy ending every time. Nice one.

Submitted by admin on Tue, 10/26/2010 - 12:39

Permalink

Very enjoyable read. Im not fond of this website but you give me meaning to be present. Ive heard of this sort of plot before, but the thought of being in a toaster is unique and intriguing. This man had high aspirations for life but only managed to work in a restaurant; which is ironic in itself. He invents a machine that he believes will relieve him of this lifestyle and it does, just not in the way he intended. His mind and soul are placed into another of his inventions: a smart toaster. His body is nowhere to be seen and he is quite trapped. He attempts multiple things and sees a few strange occurrences before he attempts suicide as he cannot stand living in the cooking capsule. He only manages to continue this lifestyle without words and now observes his own toaster-minded body run a restaurant before him. Its a funny story while being slightly morbid which is an uncommon plot twist. The thought of being trapped in something like that is dreadful but funny when it isnt you. I particularly enjoyed the parts with the cat. The cat was a sort of plot progression in that it had started the whole ordeal with its freak out and was used as entertainment as the professor waited for his quarry. I cant help but wonder what happened to the clerk, though. He is portrayed as a dull man who clearly does not enjoy his job. He hastily clicks a button he believed was the one he was instructed to select and instead placed himself within the mind of the duck that was used as the original second half of the experiment. He then dives out the window leaving me wondering one of two things. Did he see the ducks body as an excuse to take his own life or did he see it as an escape from the world he knew and flew out the window with an uplifted heart? My guess is for the latter because the theme of suicide is visited later in the story which could serve a purpose as a reoccurring theme or just another segment to this twisted tale. I enjoyed the story very much and it’s humorous while being contemplative at the same time.
Jacob, 17

Add new comment

About text formats

Plain text

  • No HTML tags allowed.
  • Lines and paragraphs break automatically.
  • Web page addresses and email addresses turn into links automatically.