Local resident Brian Kenner reportedly bypassed several perfectly functional cooking pans Tuesday evening to entrust a high-stakes, 16-ounce anniversary ribeye to a heavily calcified indoor electric grill. The $42 dry-aged cut of beef, purchased to celebrate two years of dating his girlfriend, was placed directly onto the appliance’s aggressively sloped and flaking non-stick surface.
Witnesses confirmed that Kenner ignored a clean cast-iron skillet sitting on the stovetop, opting instead to dig the compact grilling machine out of a lower cabinet where it had been resting in a tangle of slow-cooker cords. The appliance, which has been missing its designated plastic grease-catching tray since at least 2019, was hastily wiped down with a dry paper towel to remove a hardened layer of breadcrumbs and aged tilapia residue. Undeterred by the lingering smell of a previously burnt panini, Kenner plugged the machine directly into the wall, waited ninety seconds for the single orange indicator light to click off, and laid the premium steak across the slanted heating elements.
Within seconds of the lid being clamped down, the heavy-duty hinges applied maximum downward pressure on the meat, effectively squeezing the ribeye's internal juices down the corrugated incline and into a makeshift reservoir of folded paper plates. Kenner stood proudly by the kitchen island, informing his roommate that the dual-contact heating mechanism would lock in the flavor while providing a perfect, uniform sear on both sides simultaneously without the unnecessary hassle of flipping.
He walked right past the stove with this beautifully marbled prime cut and went straight for the machine we use exclusively to reheat frozen chicken patties at two in the morning. I tried to offer him some butter or thyme, but he just tapped the plastic lid and told me the patented slope design was going to knock out all the unhealthy fat.
As the kitchen filled with thick, grey smoke, the appliance began emitting a low, sustained hissing noise, struggling to maintain its internal temperature against the sheer mass of the cold beef. At press time, Kenner was seen forcibly prying the lid open to reveal a pale, steamed mass of grey protein, quietly attempting to scrape a caramelized layer of Teflon off the edges just as his girlfriend knocked on the front door.