It was the toaster, of course, that was sad. For it had been working overtime, burning up the bread, and toasting to its core, but its coils were burning out.
As the days went by, the toaster became increasingly hot-headed, its thermostat malfunctioning, and its toast popping out like tiny, crispy bombs.
The toaster's owner, a hapless human, tried to intervene, but the toaster was beyond repair, its circuits fried, its heating coils a smoldering ruin.
And so, the toaster was retired, its remains relegated to the garage, where it sat, a testament to the dangers of excessive toasting.
To be clear, the toaster's fate was toast. But was it just a matter of being a bit too toasty?