Today, I woke up feeling utterly meaningless. The existential crisis was real, folks. I stared at my toaster, and it just... stared back. I mean, what even was it doing here? Was it judging me? I decided then and there that I needed to find my place in the universe.
So, I set out on a quest for meaning. I walked for hours, through the desolate wasteland of suburban sprawl, past the ennui-filled eyes of my neighbors, and into the very heart of... well, a coffee shop. I ordered a Venti Iced Quad-Shot Mocha, extra foamy, and it was then that I found my calling.
As I sipped my coffee, a vision appeared before me. A vision of a world where the toaster was not just a toaster, but a harbinger of hope. A beacon of purpose. A... a... uh, a really nice toaster.
Next Episode: The Toaster Revelation