Brave Little Toasters - Harrison Broyles

My whole life thus far has been full of crap.

I try to mind my own business. I don't complain too much, don't even really say anything, but for some reason I get all the punishment around here. All I do is get mooned all day, by inconsiderate people who suffocate me with not only their weight but their stench. The stench is despicable. Depending on the day and the person, it either smells like a goblin threw up on a skunk or a rotting tomato was infused with sulfur. And I wish I could say that was the worst part. These inconsiderate hooligans deposit some sort of mud-fiber mix, straight into my mouth, and don't even bother to apologize or help me clean up. They yank on my neck, and I have to swallow it down, most of the time with a gallon of water it's so bad. And if I choke on it, it's usually left for the next person to deal with, and they don't seem too thrilled about it either. No one helps me around here. The only time I get cleaned is by a lady wearing rubber gloves, who pulls out a little brush and scrubs me with some overconcentrated cleaner and a disgusted look on her face. Sorry ma'am, it's not like I do this to myself! It's not my fault all you nubs are inconsiderate.