Alright, I’ll admit it. Sticking my tongue out at the yellow frying pan was probably the wrong thing to do even though he was sticking his tongue out at me first. In retrospect, I probably should have taken the high road. It’s just that I’m tired of being antagonized by that damn guy. I mean every single time I try to fry something up in him he’s gotta give me such a hard time about it. Why can’t he be more like the blue frying pan? The blue guy has never given me any trouble. He’s always stood by my side with his little Hitler mustache and those cute rosy cheeks of his. I consider him to be a trusted friend. Man, I know in my heart he’d fry anything for me. I can’t tell you how many Sunday mornings we spent together over the years, he and I, making omelettes and enjoying each others company. But he’s getting old now. His non-stick surface is beginning to show the wear and tear of a life spent frying. So I was left with no choice but to break in a new pan. That’s why I bought the yellow guy in the first place. To give ole’ blue a well deserved rest. But these young frying pans of today, they don’t have any respect. They seem to think the world owes them something. To tell you the truth, I mostly cook food in the microwave now. I try to avoid frying all together. You see, it’s simply not worth it. As much as I enjoy fried foods, there’s only so much punk ass attitude I'm willing to bear.