"Wow! This Product Realy Works!"

Once upon a time I must have been less cynical. I’m sure I wasn’t born into this world with an instinctive reasoning that anything demonstrated on the television in front of a studio audience must, by default, be a lie. At one time I must have been able to marvel at power juicers and mandolins which prevent your fingers becoming an attractive side dish, even if I was too young to articulate such amazement at the time.
As it is, years of broken promises and presenters suffering from hyperthyroidism have destroyed any belief I may once have harboured that a copper coin can truly be returned to its original factory sheen using only the power of oxygen. I could be forgiven, then, for regarding Mammy’s latest cleaning product acquisition with less than total enthusiasm.

Mammy is not a cynic. When she is told that something is going to happen, she believes it will. When she sees an oven cleaner labelled “Wow! This Product Really Works! No Mess! No Smell! Simple To Use!”, she immediately thinks of how much I will enjoy using it and of how her oven will become so clean, she will be able to cook her dinner in it.

Having been presented with my new gift, I read the instructions tentatively. They specify coating the inside of the oven in the liquid and leaving it for a minimum of four hours, or overnight if you want what they refer to as “truly amazing results!”. I don my rubber gloves and set to work.
The liquid itself is gloopy and puts me in mind of egg whites; egg whites with a very faint chlorine smell. I apply it to the inside of the oven. Things go well. I am able to inhale without fear of burning my nose hairs off and there is none of the light-headedness you get from using Mr Muscle in an enclosed space but never mind.
I turn my attention to the oven shelves. Large plastic bags are provided into which you put your shelves, add half a bottle of liquid, expel the excess air from and leave for two hours. My first problem is finding somewhere to leave the bag where inadvertent leakage won’t cause damage to flooring, worktop or the world’s nosiest one-eyed feline. I settle for the utility room as the tiles in there are already ugly.
My second problem is attempting to expel all of the air without either ripping the bag or covering myself in what the packaging swears is a deadly chemical. Eventually I manage it but only once I have dripped several fluid ounces of liquid onto the kitchen floor. As it fails to strip the patina of my medium price clicklock flooring, my doubts increase as to how effective the product will manage to be on the burned on fat on the bottom of the oven.

Four hours later I return and examine the oven shelves. With the small encouragement of water and sponge they are clean. Spookily so.
I turn my attention to the oven. None of the liquid has dripped onto the carefully spread newspaper. It still doesn’t smell. When I begin to wipe it with a wet tea-towel, to my amazement, the dirt comes off. I spend half an hour on my knees with my head in the oven, wondering why anybody would chose this as a method for drawing their life to a close (although, to be fair, if that was your state of mind I suspect you would probably be less concerned than I was about leaning on the oven door and breaking the hinges). When I am finished, the inside of the oven is really clean.

So, there was no mess, there was no smell and it was simple to use.

It has to be a sign or portent. The End of Days is definitely upon us.

In camera news: I have very nearly learned how to use the camera on auto mode. When I can remember to leave the anti-shake turned on, I will be photographically invincible.

Here is a (very slightly out of focus) picture. I call it “All Your Nuts Are Belong To Me”.

4 comments:

sarah said...

Hahaaaa you're a hoot theo!!! I remember the day my faith was restored in my TV - granny won a car. They pulled her name out of a hat on a game show and she won a shiny red thingy (car types are not my forte) but even with your startling first hand account, I still think infomercials are the devil.

Theo said...

*is flattered*

And of course informercials are the devil. Otherwise they would merely be meaningless noise in a confusing world. Everything needs a point. Even informercials.

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