Time again to bring the sparkle. This week we are (refrigerator) gassed to present equal third place getter Ann Walter’s winning short story –

To say I was flummoxed was an understatement!

One minute I am living my best life, gorgeous view of the harbor, marble floors under my feet, getting a daily wipeout and sanitize and I’m happy as a litigation lawyer.

Suppose I should have noticed when the lobster tails and Moet Chandon disappeared and got replaced with frozen dinners and domestic wine.  Come to think of it, things were getting a bit quiet around me as well. Conversations became muted whisperings behind doors, kids only opened me once a fortnight but hey, bonus, stinky dog food gone forever.

Despite these changes, I kept doing my thing, compressors whirring, temperature even, welcoming light and calm dependability. I am after all a very important fixture, except that I’m not fixed to anything. As I found out when somebody rudely ripped out my racks, emptied my ice trays and tickled my insides with a dishwashing brush.

I was used to a gentle sanitize but this was a much rougher state of affairs. Like comparing a relaxation massage to a remedial one and we all know which one we prefer.

Next thing I’m loaded onto the back of a battered Toyota hi Lux, inhaling diesel fumes and held tight by nylon rope and snatch straps. There’s some sort of mongrel hybrid hound chained up with me who has decided to mark me as his territory and I’m not happy about that.

Smooth bitumen and blue seas give way to corrugated gravel roads and soon me and the dog are bouncing up and down like yo yos inhaling diesel and dust and it’s not a good combination. Goodbye harbour views.

Hello… canefields? What sort of a comedown is this? Two burly blokes from the bush untie us and I’m surprised at how gently they lift me out and place me onto a trolley. Even the dog gets a pat on the head and a compliment.

Maybe this new home won’t be so bad after all I’m thinking as I’m rattling down the gravel path towards an old shed. As long as I’m useful, after all that’s what we appliances are made for. A bit of tinkering, some levelling of the broken boards in the shack with an old car jack and I’m plugged in and ready to serve my new owners.

Did I mention I am half freezer and half fridge? And no, I am not a snob despite being previously filled with luxury goods so I welcomed the slabs of XXXX beer, savaloys, lamb chops and hamburgers. After all it’s my job to keep these things cold but I had trouble embracing the rolls of dog food again.

I guess I am now living my second-best life but what about my large freezer? Can you guess what it’s used for?

That’s right…euthanizing cane toads!

Next week, get ready to go a refrigerated version of all-weak-at-the-knees when we unveil equal third place getter Gael Franklin’s deliciously swoon-worthy epic tale –