Without a doubt, my ghastliest tale took place in the kitchen of my ex's grandmother. She asked me what I wanted for breakfast, to which I innocently replied, "Fried eggs would be fine." MISTAKE!! She proceeded to fill a deep saucepan with roughly **2 inches*** of vegetable oil (I'm not kidding), brought it to a good high heat, and threw the eggs in. The net result was a gloppy globule of glistening eggstuff, possibly weighing more than the brass doorknob that I kept eyeing throughout the meal in hopes of making a smooth escape. Thankfully, she owned a cat. A very hungry, very desperate cat...