The Possessed Wedding Gift

         Abigail had never seen John so excited. Her husband of seven weeks had just won an online auction for a 1939 Nehi Sarsaparilla bottle cap. Abigail shared John’s exuberance with an exaggerated yawn followed by nonchalantly uttering something about wasting money.
         John attempted to convince his wife the importance of owning such a rare item.
         “This cap predates world war two. It has no scratches or dents. It’s natural cork lined. The circumference of its serrated edge is perfectly aligned. This bottle cap is rarer than…”
         Abigail interrupted, “I don’t care if it’s rarer than rocking horse poop. I still think its a waste of money.”
         John could only laugh. With their childish spat out of the way, the two lovebirds kissed and made up the way newlyweds often do.
         The following morning, John was preparing a waffle breakfast for his bride. As he lifted the lid on the waffle maker, his jaw dropped to the floor. The golden brown waffle he expected to retrieve was not there. The plates were hot, but the waffle maker was empty.
         Assuming he must have forgotten to load Aunt Eva and Uncle Dan’s beautiful and most generous wedding gift, John proceeded to pour a hefty load of his special recipe batter onto the waffle maker’s honeycombed lower plate. As he waited for the batter to bake, John stood vigil, tapping a fork on the waffle maker’s chrome lid.
         After several minutes, John again lifted the lid only to discover the same result as previous: No Waffle! Even more perplexing, there was no batter to be baked.
         Mindfully aware the problem must lie in the box of Aunt Jemima Pancake and Waffle Mix. John drove to the market. He described, to the market manager, what was going on with his batch of batter.
         The manager asked for a receipt of purchase.
         Unfortunately, since John had no receipt, his request to return the obviously defective box of Aunt Jemima Pancake and Waffle Mix was denied. Frustrated, but not deterred, John purchased a dozen eggs and a pound of bacon.
         When John explained the situation, Abigail gave the waffle iron a cynical glance. Halfheartedly accepting her husband’s improbable story, the co-owner of a rare bottle cap forced a smile and cooed, “I had my heart set on waffles, but Sweetie, the bacon and eggs you’re going to fry for us will be better than any stupid old waffle.”
         As John and Abigail enjoyed their bacon and eggs breakfast, the waffle maker’s innards incessantly growled as the aroma of fried bacon wafted throughout the house.