The Most Tragic Story You Will Ever Read

I was in Denver this summer. I wanted cookies. These two weren't related; I like cookies everywhere. Anyway, I wanted freshly baked cookies, so I went and bought a silver cookie sheet that juuust fit in the tiny dorm oven. (The fact that the sheet was silver is essential to the story. It's that kind of story.) I also bought a pack of pre-cut dough. When I got back, I discovered that the packaging lacked high-altitude instructions. Since Denver is 5,280 feet above sea level, high-altitude instructions might be important. I shrugged it off. I've made roughly three tons of cookies in my life, so I thought I could improvise. To recap, so far we have:

Scary dorm oven
Untested cookie sheet
High altitude
No instructions
General cluelessness

Ryan and I popped the cookies in the oven, set a timer for 12 minutes, and settled down to watch Family Guy three feet from the oven. Eight minutes in, the oven announced its unhappiness with a minor explosion. I still don't know what exactly exploded, or how, but the oven began to belch an alarming amount of smoke. The oven was turned off, useless windows cracked, and arms waved frantically. We closed the doors leading to the kitchen, essentially turning it into an asphyxiating smoke box. We didn't dare take the cookies out of the oven, afraid that opening it would release enough smoke to set off the smoke detector, causing evacuations and hatred. I went downstairs to let the student at the front desk know that the fire alarm might go off; keep in mind that this building has 10 stories.

Me: By the way, where can I find the fire extinguisher on my floor, just in case?

Front desk: There is no fire extinguisher on your floor.

Me: Oh… Is there one for the building then?

Front desk: No.

Me:

As if this disturbing safety oversight weren't enough, when I got back to the smoking kitchen sans extinguisher, I realized why we hadn't set off the smoke detector: there wasn't one in the kitchen. And that's the story of how we could have been quietly immolated.

After 20 minutes, we finally got the cookies out. Ryan documented the evidence.

Bon Appétit!

Yup. The silver pan turned gold. Also observe the charred cookie imprints.

Down side: The cookies were inedible.

Bright side: The non-stick pan totally worked!

I complained to the cookie people about their lack of high-altitude instructions on Denver packaging (leaving out any mention of my own ineptitude), and they gave me a coupon for free cookie dough. I just finished the last of many normal, tasty cookies. The moral of the story is that cookies are delicious.