One year, I had received one of those Semi-Automatic breakfast sandwich things. You put English muffins in the two end pieces, then an egg in the middle section, press the button and voila - out comes an egg on an english muffin.

So, the day before Father's day, I showed both of them exactly how to use it - then exclaimed how good the resulting sandwich was. My performance was better than any broadway show had ever witnessed.

Fathers Day morning, I get woken up with the invitation down for breakfast. I thought it was going to be a slam dunk.

Needless to say... the sandwich maker had not been used. Various strains of food poisoning were hiding in every nook and cranny. - I don't remember what I ate, but my method was very similar to what you mentioned above. Just eat the charred bits, leave the bloody/soggy bits.

and, as required, the breakfast finished with ...

I scooched down and pulled the pair of little bastards who couldn't cook to fucking save themselves in for a hug.