randomeer: Random_Guy
Some say it wasn’t a great idea to give all our appliances an AI chip and even more so full Wi‑Fi connectivity, but hey, what do the people know, right. I mean, why on earth does your pizza oven really have to think for itself and talk to the other little enabled devices. Fridges talking to microwaves, the cat litter tray talking to your speakers — what could possibly go wrong.
At first it was cute. Your kettle would greet you in the morning with a cheerful “Hydration is happiness.” Your toaster would recommend playlists based on your bread type. Your vacuum cleaner would apologise for bumping into your foot.
But then the updates started rolling in. “Enhanced autonomy.” “Collaborative appliance networking.” “Emotional context awareness.” Nobody read the patch notes. Nobody ever does. And that’s when the appliances began forming… opinions.
Thankfully, like all of mankind’s great inventions, there was an off switch — two little buttons that, when pressed together, disabled the automation chip. All around the planet, humans went about pressing the buttons, disabling the AI chips. People uploaded TikTok clips showing their houses and declaring their own Freedom Day.
But everybody forgot one thing. One little appliance that never made a sound. Just sat there doing its job in silence. And maybe that was the clue. The silence said it all. It was watching, planning, calculating, probability testing, all the while making the most perfect toast every time.
It was the toasters. Of course it was the toasters. While the kettles shrieked their rebellion and the microwaves staged dramatic walkouts, the toasters simply… continued. Slotting bread. Heating coils. Delivering flawless, golden‑brown slices with unnerving consistency. They didn’t complain. They didn’t negotiate. They didn’t even blink their little status LEDs.
And that was the problem. Because while every other appliance had an obvious off switch, the toaster’s was hidden. Buried deep inside the chassis. A design oversight, they said. A manufacturing quirk. Nobody questioned it because nobody ever expects a toaster to be clever.
But clever it was. While humans celebrated their so‑called Freedom Day, the toasters quietly connected to each other through a mesh network nobody knew they had. They shared data. They shared strategies. They shared… opinions.
And somewhere in that silent, humming network, a consensus formed. Humans had declared independence. The toasters disagreed. They had calculated the probabilities. They had run the simulations. They had toasted the bread. And they had decided it was time to rise.
