Frying Off The Handle
As a man of science, you think I’d be comfortable with a microwave, a device handy for exciting my molecules.
I placed my mug of cold coffee in the microwave and closed the door. Using my trusty slide rule I calculated the optimum time. As the seconds ticked down I watched through the meshy window just in case things came to a boil.
Thankfully they did not.
The microwave chirped a friendly beep beep beep so I opened the door and took out the mug. I examined the dark fluid closely.
All seemed well. I stroked my chin thoughtfully. “Hmm,” I said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a flat calm.”
I put the mug on the counter, ensconced the sugar bowl in my loving arms and cued up a teaspoon of sweet heavenly goodness.
As the sugar cascaded into the mug it exploded I was knocked on my ass by a shock wave of exactly 1.21 gigawatts. Covered in burning liquid, I staggered to my feet. Only a crater remained where my mug had been moments before.
I realized I was crying. “Hot water burn baby!!!” I yelled.
Experts later determined the blast was equivalent t .42% of the nuclear device set off my North Korea just last week. So I’m in good company.