He hefted the toaster to eye-level and exclaimed that it, in fact, was the lost toaster of Coco Vaehn. After then safely securing the toaster away somewhere the guests would never guess to look or even think to look, he told this story:
Coco Vaehn had been an exceedingly vain woman. Born to poor, ugly idiots somewhere in the Great Smoky Mountains, she declared at a very early age her desire to escape the tawdry tawdriness of her parents’ lives and find her fortune in the big city (NYC). Since she was exceptionally beautiful and mature at the age of 14, she was able to achieve her goal relatively easily: she passed herself off as 26, hitched a ride into NYC (providing proper “payment” along the way), and once in the city, married a string of wealthy but ageing men. Each of her husbands met his end somewhat mysteriously, but nary a shred of proof was ever presented against Coco herself.
As she neared 50 years of age, and the eventual demise of husband number 8, her looks began to fail her. Already wealthy beyond her wildest dreams (she had, in fact, paid to have her tawdry, stupid, ugly, and poor parents put out of their tawdry misery, their home bulldozed, the rubble burned, and the earth around the fire salted), she devoted the rest of her life to enhancing her fading looks through surgery and finding the perfect mirror. She found the perfect mirror, and disfigured herself beyond recognition through surgery. Shortly before her 75th birthday, however, her perfect mirror was stolen (it is believed by one of the newer members of her staff who misunderstood the objects’ actual worth, confusing that with the worth placed upon it by Coco Vaehn). Ms. Vaehn spent 9 long months searching for her perfect mirror, and, unable to locate it through detection, persuasion, or force, gave up her search and the ghost.
The mirror remained hidden for 34 years. (He paused in his story and wiped his brow, which had begun to glisten.) However (he went on), after decades of research, months spent in dank basements and vermin-infested attics, sifting through crumbling papers, peering at faded photographs, I found it! And not only did I find it, but I can trace its lineage all the way back to Coco Vaehn herself!!!
At this point, a Ms. Poh-Tay-Toh felt it necessary to interrupt the obviously overexcited man with a cry of, “What, the toaster?!”
