The Smoke Alarm

I used to live in Park Slope with my friend from High School and his friend from college. One weekday night I was awakened at 4 am by a constant beeping that sounded eerily like a smoke alarm. I was tired so I kept on rationalizing that someone else would get it (as if it were a door bell and not a system that is made to alert us of danger).
We lived on the first floor of a 4 story brown stone and my room was in the front of our apartment. I had three huge windows, so if there actually was a fire in our apartment I could easily escape. Therefore, one of my roommates should check it out since their lives were a lot more at risk. (This is how you rationalize when all you want to do is go back to sleep). Another 5 minutes went by and neither of my roommates got up to shut off the alarm or alert me of danger. I Assumed that both my roommates were now dead (since that was the only reasonable excuse for not hearing this persistent beeping sound) , so I decided to suck it up and shut the alarm off myself so I could get some sleep.

I finally pulled myself out of bed and walked into the hall where I was greeted by a cloud of smoke. Our entire hallway was filled with thick, white smoke... (..So much for removing the batteries from the smoke alarm and going back to sleep). I made my way towards the back of our apartment to see what the hell was going on. I get into the living room and there is one of my roommates passed out on the couch. I instantly realized what was going on. I went into the kitchen and discovered that there was a mini pizza in the toaster oven that was now a chard black. I shut off the toaster oven and went back into the living room to wake up my dumb-ass roommate. I shook him 4 or 5 times until he finally woke up (he was shit-faced). He looked at me drunkenly as I attempted to explain to him that he almost burned down our apartment and that he was currently passed out drunk in a cloud of smoke. He then quickly got up off the couch, went into the kitchen, turned the toaster oven back on and then passed back out on the couch in the living room. REALLY? I honestly did not at all see that coming and was not sure how to react. Again, I shut the toaster oven off and this time unplugged it. I then woke up my roommate for the second time and explained to him that he was an idiot. Again, he just stared at me drunkenly. This time he got up, went into the kitchen, pulled the pitch black, mini pizza out of the toaster oven, put it on a plate, stared at it perplexed for almost a minute, and then walked into his room and slammed the door.

The next day I asked him how his extremely burned pizza was. He looked at me confused and asked how I knew about that..

After half scolding him for almost burning the house down, and half laughing at how ridiculous he was, I looked in his bedroom and saw that the chard black mini pizza had two big bites taken out of it… ewww