Microwaveable what?

I for one, don't really use my microwave, I do know it was clean once upon a time, but last night, during the taco preparations a little Friend known as Dylan went to venture into Molly the microwave, only to stand back and gasp really loudly, literally, he gasped loudly. Inhaling deeply with a "HUUURFFFH?!" (I don't know how to write a gasp in letters~)

He pointed at Molly, who was indecently exposing herself, "LOOK AT THIS!" He cried, I raised an eyebrow and tiptoed over to the microwave, sharp pointy knife in hand, expecting some sort of Gremlin to pop out at us. Yet I found that I too, gave a gasp, one of shock and horror, of pure and utter disgust. For her inner walls (insert bad dirty jokes here) were lined with a thin layer of what appeared to be a cheesy grease like substance. I shook my head and held my breath for the odour, as slight as it may have been was not something that I had wished to smell. I took a step back deciding that perhaps I could go back to hacking away at minced meat.

Dylan gave a sigh and grabbed the cleaning products and dismantled the inside of Molly, his hands caressing her had case, gently taking out her sheek glass tray and his fingers rolling ever so gently over her own little rollers. Molly gave a slight 'click' followed by a 'clack' of satisfaction. I raised my eyebrows, feeling slightly guilty since he was my friend, why should he have to clean out my Molly?

I piped up waving the knife around like the crazy fool I am, "Dylan, you don't have to clean that, I'll do it on the weekend."

His eye twitched, a look of defiance and determination upon his grizzled face as he held up a blue cloth, "I will not eat ANYTHING that has touched that." He said, pointing towards Molly the microwave.

I shrugged my shoulders, I did agree with him but my mind was focused on biting into oozing succulent tacos, "You ate from it last week."

Dylan shook his head, "I didn't know it was that bad." Was that a hint of sorrow, regret in his voice? Did he form some kind of bond with Molly that I was unaware of? He fell silent, his dark eyes focused on the floor, a soft wind blew through the window, picking up particles of dust, I watched as they danced along the lino floor. He spoke, his voice low, deadly. "Who did this...."

I shrugged, "Probably Jayjoo and Rynee (names changed to maintain secrecy) they always made melted cheese sammiches in Molly, they used to eat about three or four a day." After saying this I decided to move to the other side of the wooden kitchen table, if Dylan had formed some kind of secret bond with Molly, his heart may have been enraged with this knowledge, knowing that other MEN had voilated her, pressed her buttons at their own sheer delight, leaving her neglected and dirty.

My hunch was right, he raised his eyes to look at me, now a murderous rage stared me in the face, I felt as though I was staring at a wolf whom had cornered its prey. He licked his lips, and cracked his knuckles, almost as though he was ready to pounce. I cringed, holding the knife out in front of me in some meek attempt to defend myself. He opened his mouth, as though to say something, or perhaps take a bite out of my tasty shoulder meat, instead he met me with a sigh. His eyes darting back to Molly, he lifted up the washcloth and began to ever so gently clean her out. The kitchen was silent an air of unbroken silence, layered thick with an unease.

I went back to the meat, placing it in the pan, a crackle and a low 'sizzle' broke the silence and the thick air of dread. The simple action of cooking dead, juicy meat seemed to have lifted spirits, for that action, that sound and that smell, meant only one thing.

Dinner would be ready soon.

Dylan gave a satisfied sigh, followed by a satisfied beep from Molly. "It's CLEAN" He shouted in delight, "quick grab the camera!" So I, oh so hastily grabbed my camera and took a photo of Molly all nice and clean, and Dylan next to his new lady friend, both are really happy that the job had been done.

Here is a photo. Didn't get one of Molly when she was all dirty...and filthy...covered in grease and oil...yeah no.

P.S Dylan please don't kill me for making it sound like you had 'fun' with the microwave.