[ WP ] After brushing your teeth in the morning you go downstairs to fry an egg , but when you try the frying pan buzzes at you and text appears reading , `` level 18 cooking required to use object '' .

I tilt my head at the frying pan. *God damnit*. I pick it up once again just to be safe. It buzzes again and the same message appears. *Son of a bitch. Seriously? * I reach out and try to pick up the blender. It buzzes as well as a message pops up claiming I did not have level 20 cooking to operate it. Well, that settles the fact that it is not the frying pan malfunctioning. *Alright... I'll figure out what happened to my points after I eat breakfast. * I reach for the juice squeezer. 
 
 **BZZZ** *Level 8 cooking required to use object. * 
 
 *Alright... let's work downwards from here. Maybe the toaster? * 
 
 **BZZZ** *Level five cooking required to use object. * 
 
 *That's... something. Okay. Let's try simpler. Simple bread with butter*. I reach for the knife. 
 
 **BZZZ** *Level two cooking required to use object. * 
 
 *Cereal? Come on the spoon is the absolute minimum anyone can-* 
 
 **BZZZ** *Level one cooking required to use object. * 
 
 I practically kick down the door to the living room as I call tech support from my phone, my free hand idly scratching the subcutaneous microchip installed on the back of my head. `` I do n't know what the hell is wrong with your service, but it is saying I ca n't even hold a fucking spoon!'' It was kind of depressing and infuriating how apparently I had less cooking skills than a toddler right now. 
 
 `` Please place your phone's reciever close to your microchip for diagnosis.'' Said the man on the other side of the line. I comply and count to ten before answering the phone again. 
 
 `` So?'' 
 
 `` A fault with the microchip. It currently lists your cooking skills at negative one-twenty-seven.'' 
 
 My stomach is rumbling. `` Great. That's great. Now can you fix it?'' 
 
 `` Tech support will be arriving shortly... estimate... five hours. Have a pleasant day.'' 
 
 I grit my teeth and hit my head against the wall three times, trying to think of a solution. At that level I could n't even open the fridge. I take a deep breath and consider my options before finally deciding which was the least humiliating one and making the phone call. 
 
 `` Hey mom, hi. Yeah, yeah, I'm good. Listen, this is going to sound really weird, but you know how you used to spoon-feed me when I was a little baby?''
