Sammy the Teapot was not happy. In fact, its widely known that 73% of teapots are not.

You see, teapots only have one job - to hold tea. And thats not counting ornamental teapots, the old codgers of teapot society, who brought freedom for teapot-kind in the great war and wont seem to shut up about it. Sammy was a young teapot, new to the trade. This was his first owner, and they didnt treat him very well. In the few conversations he had had with the cups and saucers (delightful bunch, but very fragile) he had discovered one thing: His owners werent very nice. Apparently, they were a middle-aged couple a five-year-old daughter. Children! Sammy couldnt believe he had to work in these conditions. Every morning at 6:30, he had to hold roughly a liter of boiling water in his beige casing. Do you know how that feels to a teapot? Like your insides were dunked into the depths of hell, then stopped to chat with the devil. One day, Sammy had an epiphany. It was after the second teabag was plunked in and the water was starting to get cold. He was thinking about something the radio had said a few days prior: Im here reporting from the south of London, where... well, all I can see is fire, said the radio. All I can smell is smoke. Its day two of the workers strike, and there is a taste of victory in the air. Workers strike? Now, Sammy was never a bright teapot, he only get a Coffee on his TLevels, but he liked the sound of that. And Sammy had a plan. The next morning, a 6 oclock, Sammy had his usual conversation with the cuckoo clock. But this time, the cuckoo could feel the Sammy was not his usual self. So, as the cuckoo put his glasses on and read that days headlines, Sammy proclaimed: Socialism! Anarchy! Down with Fascists! The cuckoo, amused by this, replied with Sammy, what are you on about? Workers strike! Too long have the workers of this kitchen been exploited! Too long have we gone unpaid! With this piece of propaganda, Sammy had woken up all the cutlery, even the little baby teaspoons. Oy! Watcha doin up there? Its a little known fact that all cutlery has an accent originating in Sheffield; except chopsticks, who have an accent that one can only be described as a stereotypical racist asian impression.

The workers deserve rights too! exclaimed Sammy uncut by the knifes blunt wit. Well, wouldya mind PIPING it DOWN?! No I will not, erm, falter until there is worker equality! Thats great son, but howdya think thatd work? Sammy was bewildered; he hadnt thought of this before. How could such simple forward-planning escape the mind of a talking teapot? Sammy was truly fumbling in the dark for answers. Well... erm... Look mate, you may as well run away with the Borrowers, anounced the newly-woken fork. By now, everyone in the kitchen was awake. It was nearly 6:30 after all, and you could hear the couple starting to get dressed upstairs. Sammy had to act quickly. ***** He took to the middle of the counter, and shouted at the top of his voice so that the oven on the other side of the room would be able to hear. Members of this kitchen: my colleagues, my friends, we must act quickly to overthrow the dictators of this kitchen! The once chattering array of utensils became silent, and the whole kitchen stopped. Sammy only felt more courage; he knew that this is how revolutions start. I propose that we all band together and create an unstoppable force! Something like.... we all stop working! Yeah, if we all just stop, then the fascists cant do anything! We have the power, not them ***** Thud, thud, thud. The sound of people stumbling down the stairs in the early morning rush. Unaware of what was to happen. The woman came down first. Like every morning, she turned the kettle on. It worked fine. Then, preparing for her muesli, she took a bowl out of the cupboard. Nothing happened. It was then that Sammy realised that no-one in the kitchen could move. Or speak. In fact, none of this happened because teapots are not conscious. Youre all stupid.