When you think back, you were pretty sure this all had to do with toast. There was nothing wrong with the aforementioned toast, as it had been a perfectly normal slice of bread when you’d taken it off of its loaf. Rather, the abnormality lay in the toaster. So maybe it all began with a toaster.
To be perfectly frank, you are not the type who usually enjoys the food (if this…stuff evens deserves to be given such an honored title) sold at the common store across the street, but to do such things was normal.
And if there was anything that motivated you, it was the desire to be normal. Blend in amongst your fellow humans and whatnot.
Moving back to the toast. You had been going about the task of preparing yourself a breakfast of toast when you’d heard an odd rumbling. Upon turning around, you came face-to-face with a glowing, vibrating toaster turned in your direction.
You were never, ever buying household appliances from random men dressed as pigs who stood on street-corners ever again.
And that was how your day began:
With you, running, flailing and screaming, while running from bullets of radioactive toast all the way to Skool.