When I was a kid we got one of these new-fangled microwave things; my mum put a potato in it, scoffed at the idea that it could possibly be done in the 8 mins or whatever stated in the instructions, so dialled in a more 'realistic' time and went out to see the neighbours. I was upstairs doing homework oblivious to this drama, but was soon drawn down to the kitchen by the burning smell.
Well, the thing was still gamely running, albeit with smoke pouring out of the back, and the potato itself was a glowing meteorite slowly rotating on its dish, honestly a fascinating sight. The scorch mark on the wall behind is still visible these many decades later.
In a happy corollary, my mum, who has more than a touch of the Beverley Goldbergs about her in this regard, was somehow able to return the ruined 'wave back to the shop and get her money back !
Well, the thing was still gamely running, albeit with smoke pouring out of the back, and the potato itself was a glowing meteorite slowly rotating on its dish, honestly a fascinating sight. The scorch mark on the wall behind is still visible these many decades later.
In a happy corollary, my mum, who has more than a touch of the Beverley Goldbergs about her in this regard, was somehow able to return the ruined 'wave back to the shop and get her money back !