The Fingers

The Oven

My stomach burns. Not with disgust, but with rage. A malicious feeling overcomes my entire body as I try desperately to bring that finger back up. The only thing I want to see right now is that finger mixed with a pool of my own Monster Energy vomit. With my luck, that battery acid probably already destroyed it.

"You idiot! Why did you do that?!" A voice calls out. I dart my head around to look for the source of it, but I can't find it.

"I thought it would be funny." I reply, sticking my own finger down my throat. I dry heave a couple of times, but no fingers come up. "What's happening to me?"

"You see a finger lying inside of an oven, and your first thought is to EAT IT? WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU???" It couldn't be real, but the voice sounded like it was coming straight from the back of the oven. I even felt its warm breath blow through my hair.

"I... Uhh... I watch anime?" I question, knowing full well that wouldn't satisfy the person asking me such questions.

"Well, you're still alive, so I guess it took." The oven rumbles. Startled, I move away from it, only to see it hopping out of its spot like something out of a cartoon.

"I knew my cousin did a lot of drugs, but I didn't know it was contagious." I say, sitting on the edge of the couch and sticking my hands in my pockets.

"Your cousin was an incarnation of the world's most despicable soul. And now, you hold a part of that soul in your body." The oven says, getting closer to me. I don't scoot down the couch—even though I'm terrified—because that would be rude.

"Oh. Are you for real?" I question, knowing full well I was probably tripping my brains out. I probably passed out from the effects of the caffeine, and because I choked on that finger, and this is just some fever dream that I'll wake up from.

"Do you think this is some kind of joke? I'm a talking oven, do you really think this is normal?" The oven asks, clearly exasperated by my behaviour. To be fair, I'm just doing what any normal person would and being weirded out.

"Am I tripping or what? I just ate a finger, I didn't think I'd hallucinate from it. New drug: Loser Fingers." I reply, growing increasingly shorter and shorter with the mysterious oven. A foreign rage filled me, and though it wasn't very strong, it was hard to shake away. "I'm gonna go home now, so see ya later, Moffat."

"You can't!" It exclaims, jumping in front of the door and turning on its ranges, successfully preventing me from leaving. "Now that you went and stupidly ate that finger, it's your responsibility to eat the rest of him!" It went to say more, but I cut it off despite my best efforts to hold my tongue and not interrupt.

"Hell no! I'm not cannibalizing my cousin! He's got no muscle to him, he's all sinew!" I stand up, walking over to where the oven once was and collecting all the raw macaroni from under it. There was enough to make macaroni art, glued to a paper.

"Your cousin is the source of all malice in this world. All hate, all disagreements, all wars. All of them have been started by his soul and his soul alone. If we get rid of that soul, then we will get rid of evil, too. But throughout history, all efforts to do so have failed. But now, now that he's weakened, we actually have a chance!" There's a conviction in the oven's words that I can't help but respect.

"I'll be honest with you. Even that tiny piece had me feeling like a monster. But yes, I agree to cannibalize my cousin if it's for the greater good of humanity." I put my hand to my chest, but pull it away when I realize my already short nails looked disgustingly bitten.

"The next closest piece is at Walmart. Let's go there right away." The oven says, turning its ranges off and hopping down the stairs. Surely the noise pissed off the landlord, but they couldn't really complain after what my cousin had been doing.

"You don't have to tell me twice, Moffat." I follow them, watching as they bounce up, bending like it was a spring, then landing, squishing upon itself slightly.

Off to Walmart.