If a microwave fire occurs on the 6th floor, Jerry and I are going to be prime suspects. Yesterday morning, I went to get hot water for my tea, and the machine was empty because someone had turned off the water flow for some reason. This is the conversation that resulted between Jerry, myself, and the man I’ll call “the prosecution’s star witness”:

Bryce: “We’re out of hot water. Now what am I going to do?”
Star Witness: “You could have coffee.”
Bryce: “But I don’t like coffee.” ::wanders around the kitchen aimlessly::
Star Witness: “Microwave?”
Bryce: “I don’t have anything except the styrofoam cup to heat it in. How likely is it to catch on fire?”
Star Witness: ::Looks concerned::
Jerry: “I do it all the time!”
Bryce: “How often does it catch on fire?”
Jerry: “Just once.”
Star Witness: ::Eyes get wider::
Bryce: “Those are good odds. Besides, it’s not like it’s MY microwave.”
Star Witness: ::Backs away slowly::
Bryce: “Hey, look. We have a second microwave! If this first one goes up in flames, we’ll still have another one.”
Jerry: “Ooh, and it’s an old one. It looks like the kind that can take foil.”

The defense enters a plea of not guilty by reason of sarcasm, Your Honor.

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