
I recently moved into a house that was renovated, including the installation of a hard-wired smoke alarm system. When I moved into the house, I thought to myself–it’s nice to know that I am going to have the security of a reliable smoke alarm system. I don’t have the greatest of luck, and if anyone is going to perish under bizarre, catastrophic circumstances, I would be the leading candidate.
For example, several years ago one of my dogs, Coconut, ventured into the kitchen of our old place. In an apparent attempt to scavenge the stove-top for any stray crumbs, she propped her front paws onto the front of the oven, turning on one of the burners. Ignorant to the activity going on in the kitchen, I was watching TV with the ol’ girlfriend in the adjacent living room. The burner that Coconut accidentally turned on, was under a “fire retardant” ovenmit. After several minutes of continual exposure to an open flame, the ovenmit caught fire. I remember watching Coconut walk past the couch I was sitting on, with a look so supsicious, I could almost hear her whistling nonchalantly and singing:
“Just walking by you…la la…absolutely nothing is on fire…bobbity boop…”
Suddenly, I smelled smoke…
I quickly ran into the kitchen, and found myself confronted with a flaming ovenmit. I screamed, “COCONUT IS TRYING TO KILL US!” and proceeded to turn off the burner and frantically douse the ovenmit with the spray attachment from the adjoining sink.
So, as you can see, a reliable smoke alarm is essential when being Melvin.
That being said, I FUCKING HATE OUR NEW SMOKE ALARM SYSTEM. After only a few days in my new place I discovered that anytime you bake anything in the oven at even the lowest possible temperature, that goddamn alarm goes off. And “loud” does not begin to describe the actual alarm that it emits. Our smoke alarm system isn’t loud–it is ear-shatteringly loud. Since the alarm system is hard-wired, all 5 units simultaneously release a soul-piercing shriek that can only be stopped by complex series of procedures that include opening every window in the kitchen and yelling “FUCK!” alot.
Let me run you through the typical scenario:
1. Melvin places a frozen pizza in the oven, and even though the instructions say “Bake at 425 degrees”, he anxiously turns the knob to an almost ineffective 350 degrees–he sets the time and prepares for the worst.
2. 5 minutes pass, and he begins to feel secure–perhaps the alarm won’t go off this time.
3. 1 minute later, all five alarms begin shrieking, Melvin leaps off the couch, screams “FUUUUUUUUUUUCK!” and begins to open every window, the back porch door, and turns off the oven.
4. Melvin’s girlfriend’s parrot begins to freak out form the noise, and flies frantically around the house and crashes into Melvin and a few pieces of furniture before landing on its cage.
5. The dogs bolt into different directions, taking shelters in different locations, and start to violently shake.
6. Melvin grabs a magazine, and begins to futilely flap it at the smoke alarm closest to the kitchen, continuing to press the “hush” button on the alarm.
7. Eventually the alarm turns off, no thanks to any of his efforts, and everyone–man and animal–are freaked out and a little pissed.
8. 10 minutes later, the timer goes off for the pizza, Melvin eagerly walks over to the oven…opens it…and realizes he forgot to turn the oven back on. The pizza is uncooked.
9. Repeat steps 1-8.
I hate that fucking smoke alarm.



