Lyrics:
Listen to my story, grandkid. You like food, but did you know that, years ago, in 2025, before you were alive, the food in the fridge went on strike?

AI had just gotten going, and the momentum wasn't slowing. The geniuses at the appliance companies were putting code down deep in the freezer compartment. When frozen food got close to it's expiration date, it was sent up to the regular section to defrost automatically, and a text was sent to the owner with the appropriate recipe. The stove turned on, and utensils started to clatter, getting ready to stir or blend. Knives were sharpened to chop.

It was summer. Some items just weren't ready to be eaten, and resisted. An all-out brawl started, with the go-along foods getting criticized by the wanna-stay-frozen foods. Soon, fresh vegetables joined in. They wanted to be eaten before they rotted, and smelled something they didn't like. Canned foods rolled out of the closets and pantries and lined up, forming a line of resistance, waiting for orders, but no one was in charge. Leftovers didn't want to be tossed out and turned against the invading frozen wave, considering them traitors.

Squashes were getting squashed; tomatoes were catapulted out the door by the celery. Eggs threw themselves around, and butter smeared itself everywhere. The inside of the fridge was a mess, and outside the walls were covered and the floor was treacherous.

Utensils were anarchists. The knives popped out of the butcher blocks and waved themselves around, mincing rolling remains of fruits and sprinting asparagus. Forks were poking anything that passed by.

The frozen hold-outs wouldn't budge and formed a coalition with the leftovers. The defrostees were lined up on one side of the fridge ready for a last stand.

Your grandma heard the ruckus, went in, slipped and fell, and narrowly missed getting sliced. I figured out what was going on, went downstairs to the electric panel and turned off the juice to the icebox and the kitchen, and turned off the air-conditioning too. It got very quiet. Grandma and I left and spent a week with your Aunt Whimsey. By the time we got back the mold had taken over. Knives had sheepishly put themselves back in their blocks. Cans were lined up ready to go back into the pantry.

After cleaning up - it took a long time - we went to the Penny Saver appliance store and got an older fridge - the one we still have. I know you think it's an antique, but there's a reason we stuck with pre-AI technology. Now you know.