Cleaning the Fridge

We hadn't giving the fridge a good cleaning since before Josh left in October (no speculation on exactly how much before Josh left), and it was getting time to do that. Something glowing red had spilled down the back and collected in a little radioactive pool under the bottom drawer; clearly something had to be done.

So I got out the sponge and spatula and bleach, put the lettuce, eggs and bacon on the counter, and disassembled the inside of the fridge. When I got to the back of the bottom, I discovered the luminescent red stuff had coated a colony of pulsing yellow sludge, mixed with some black threads and a couple of things with tentacles. The evil glup had been feeding on a continuous trickle of forty watts from an empty light socket, which hadn't helped.

But with a white-hilted knife, and a cold chisel, and bergamot-scented napalm (note to self: use mint jelly flavor next time), and a 1872 copy of the secret Admiralty orders for ships on the South Pacific station, and a few other implements and chemicals, I managed to exorcise, purge, scrape, and cleanse the fridge, and reassemble the components. No major injuries, but I don't think I'll ever use that putty knife for eating again.