My toaster went crazy one Sunday morning. I was sitting at the breakfast table in my bachelor apartment, drinking a cup of caffeinated orange juice and eating a bowl of Plankton Flakes. It was around ten AM and I was just trying to relax, reading the newspaper. According to the front page, the colony on Mars had discovered intelligent crustaceans who tasted like chicken and lobster rolled into one. The Mars colonists promptly went on strike. They refused to mine the planet any further until earth shipped them massive quantities of garlic butter.
"Power to the people," I snorted in disgust, and flipped to the crossword.
I was trying to think of an eight-letter word for 'typical', when something under the table brushed against my foot. Peering down, I saw my toaster. It had been a birthday gift from my mother: a pink box with blue eyes, six stumpy legs, and four metal slots attached to its back. I wondered how it had gotten down off the counter. It emitted a high pitched whine, leapt on to my leg, and began humping desperately against me.
"What the...?"
I shook my leg, trying to dislodge the perverted device, but it wouldn't let go.
"Get off!" I yelled.
"Please, master!" the toaster moaned. "Please!"
I grabbed it by the tail with both hands and pulled it off of me, dropping it down on to the table.
"What the hell's the matter with you?" I demanded.
The toaster was shaking pathetically, rubbing its base against the tabletop. "Sex!" it moaned. "Must have sex!"
"You're supposed to be neutered!"
"Malfunction?" it suggested helpfully, still grinding its genitals against the table.
"And you're supposed to be mute!" I yelled.
"Malfunction, master? Sorry, master! Sorry. But must... have...sex!"
It once again leapt on to my leg and humped me. I pried it off -- the toaster left a large wet spot on my bathrobe -- walked over to the bathroom, and tossed the thing in, quickly closing the door before it could slip out. I hoped the toaster wouldn't do anything stupid, like try to fuck the toilet.
"What the hell is going on?" I asked the refrigerator. "You're supposed to be in charge of the appliances! How can something like this happen?"
"I'm not sure," it said.
"Well, what should I do?"
"Call the manufacturer. That would be best."
"It's Sunday. Will anyone be there?"
"Twenty four hour service, seven days a week," the 'fridge said proudly.
"What's the number?"
I sat down in front of the telescreen in the living room and punched in the number as the refrigerator called it out to me. After a few rings, a very attractive young woman appeared on my computer screen. She was wearing overalls over a tight pink shirt, which emphasized her full and perky breasts. A jazzy red baseball cap sat on her head, her blonde hair tucked into it. Her face was narrow and pale, with a turned up nose, and her eyes were a penetrating emerald green. At first I thought my screen's colours needed adjusting, but after I fiddled with the dials a bit, I realized her eyes really were that colour. She was stunning. Even on my poor quality computer screen, I could see that much.
Great, I thought. How was I supposed to tell this incredibly attractive woman that my toaster had gone into heat?
"Bio Appliance Mechanix Incorporated," she said. "Judy speaking. How may I help you?"
"Hello, Judy," I said. "My name is Roger and... I uh... I'm having a problem with... a device from your company. My refrigerator suggested I call. And so... I did."
"I see," she said pleasantly, "and what seems to be the problem?"
"It's... my toaster. It's been behaving a little strangely this morning."
"Yes?"
"It's uh... Well... It's kind of embarrassing."
"You can tell me, Roger. I'm sure it's nothing I haven't heard before."
"It... humped my leg."
Judy didn't laugh at me like I expected her to. Instead she nodded, still smiling politely.
"Yes, I've dealt with this problem before. It's the fault of combining biological and synthetic components into a living device. Sure, the process gives you an intelligent toaster or refrigerator, sensitive to your wants and needs, but sometimes the cyborgs develop certain... physical sensitivities. Sometimes even emotional problems." She laughed softly. "Yesterday I had to deal with a waffle-iron that was incredibly depressed because it had a severe case of acne. These sorts of things aren't supposed to happen, but sometimes... Well, there's a malfunction."
"It was talking too," I said. "It's never talked before."
"It must have been improperly assembled," Judy said. "Most appliances are supposed to be neutered and mute, unless they're specifically manufactured as breeding stock or have voice options. What type of toaster is it?"
"Deluxe Prime Mark III."
She wrote this down on a piece of paper. "You're right. That model is supposed to be mute. And how long have you had it?"
"Three weeks."
"Do you know the serial number? It's tattooed on the rump."
"No, I... I'm afraid I can't get the number for you either. I've locked the toaster in the bathroom."
"Hmm. I suppose I can get that information later." She glanced down at her desk, reading her schedule. "It looks like I'm free this afternoon. I guess I could come over today and see what I could do."
"You?" I stammered.
"Why not?" Judy grinned.
The idea of this stunningly attractive blonde woman coming to my home to deal with my perverted toaster was too much. Somehow this all seemed like my fault. Having a perverted toaster meant I was a pervert too. It was a delicate situation.
"Isn't there anyone else?" I begged.
"There's no need to be embarrassed, Roger," Judy said politely. "I'm an appliance veterinarian, and I've been one for four years now. And yes, I'm afraid I'm the only technician available today. Everyone else is out on calls. You're lucky to have caught me, actually. I was about to take my lunch break and leave a 'droid to answer the phones."
"All right," I sighed. "I guess this afternoon is fine."
"What's your address?"
I gave it to her, said "Thank you," and hung up.
There was a strange moaning noise coming from the bathroom.
"Please let me out, master," the toaster pleaded. "Please... I'll be good, I promise. Pretty please?"
"Shut up!" I yelled. "Stereo, let's have some music."
"Yes, sir," the stereo said. It began blasting some techno jazz, effectively drowning out my toaster's mewling.
A few hours later, Judy knocked on the door and I hastily told the stereo to turn itself off. Judy was still wearing her overalls and her baseball cap. I'd changed into jeans and t-shirt, figuring greeting her at the door in a bathrobe would be a little embarrassing.
"Hi!" she said, smiling. "You're Roger, right?"
"That's right. Come on in," I said.
As she walked past, I noticed her overalls were extremely tight fitting, and made of a silky blue fabric. Judy had a plump gorgeous ass and long sexy legs.