You always been just like a microwave to us. Very strong (but not overly so), with that wonderful rotating table and excellent cooking times.
We never really knew where you came from; you just showed up at our wedding reception with no card or note. We valiently tried to figure out who gave you to us, but nobody ever fessed up.
But as I was making peanut butter krispy treats for Husband, you started to do this:
Note - this is not MY microwave; this is some person who purposefully put metal in their own microwave. My microwave glowed like this, but did not sound like this. I am in no way condoning or encouraging you to do this to your microwave.
I don't know why you did this. I checked inside, and there was definitely no metal anywhere inside of you. Just peanut buttery goodness.
But the nuclear-reaction-glowing and the post-glow scorch marks scare me. I don't have a good record with appliances - just ask the fridge (#26, and it was later discovered that there may have indeed been fire involved), and perhaps that old toaster. So I'm afraid you're going to have to go.
Fare thee well, old appliance.