Please, whatever you do, don’t ever microwave popcorn that isn’t in pre-measured bags. Let me explain. . .
There was a great movie on last night (“Desk Set,” a favorite of mine) that absolutely required popcorn, but I discovered that, aside from the 80 tins of Fancy Feast Salmon now occupying my cupboard (God help me if I run out!), the larder was bare of this film-viewing essential.
Driven by a mindless popcorn frenzy, I figured I could take loose popcorn, put a little oil in it, and pop it in a big bowl in the microwave.
In case you didn’t know . . . you can’t.
Well, let me amend that. You can, but there are consequences.
I poured four cups of popcorn into the bowl (I know, I know), and added a little oil. How long to pop it, though? I decided that 10 minutes would be enough time.
And sure enough, after about eight minutes, it began to pop.
After nine minutes, the microwave exploded.
After nine and a half minutes, my kitchen was awash in popcorn.
After 10 minutes, the popping finally stopped, and I surveyed my kingdom. There was two feet of popcorn on the floor, so, quick thinker that I am, I asked myself, “What is the fastest way to get rid of all this popcorn?” The answer hit me like the ball peen hammer I deserved to be hit with.
I called up the local pigeon breeder.
In 15 minutes, there was a knock at the door. When I opened it, a flock of pigeons rivaling anything Alfred Hitchcock could imagine in his blackest mood filled my house.
Five minutes later, the popcorn was gone and the pigeons were gone, but there was pigeon poop covering everything like a fresh coat of paint . . . varnished paint!
In order to clean up the pigeon poop, I called a maid service that advertised steam cleaning.
After they arrived and finished laughing themselves sick, I called a carpet cleaning service. They got the bird poop out of the carpet, but couldn’t do a thing for the walls and the furniture. They suggested I either bring in statuary and forget it, or get some scavenger insects to get rid of the rest of it.
So I bought 2,000 crickets. And, you know, it worked! The bird poop was gone, but the crickets bred in the carpet, and soon my home was filled with 200,000 crickets. The noise was positively deafening!
Then somebody suggested that I bring in frogs to eat the crickets. So I bought 600 frogs and turned them loose. They got rid of the crickets, all right, but then I had 600 fat croaking frogs hopping all over the place. And you can’t truly say you’ve had a bizarre experience until you’ve sat down on a toilet and had it croak up at you!
The same person, on hearing of my dilemma, suggested that I get garter snakes to get rid of the frogs. Why I continued to listen to this lunatic, I’ll never understand, but I bought 75 large garter snakes, and the frogs were history.
But have you ever smelled garter snake poop?
I have a new address now. I’m living in Antarctica where there are no animals and no popcorn!