Toast Poast XXVIII

J Lemon’s Rabbits Against Magic here, no here, no over here. Now you see it, now you don’t. Here! Pouf! Now conjuring Leo Baxendale. Nothing up my sleeve, atall. Mr. Baxendale is rightere, on yer screen. Our toast-r-oven does not conjure, or perform tricks, although it does sing. Frightening, the pitch that it hits. Not on cue, not on command, not on a dime, not on time, apropos of nothing, it sings. Or chants perhaps. One long, hiiiigh eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, till I give the cord a yank. That’s whatcha get, buying a toast-r-us offa eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeebay.