Hello there Dragons. My name is Simon and I am seeking a £257k and fifty pence investment for a quarter of a percent equity in my company Full Slice. At the peril of sounding like the start of a 90s stand up routine, don’t you hate it when you want a nice hot slice of toast but the toaster isn’t big enough to cook the whole slice? This is where Full Slice comes in. Full Slice is a toaster that, you guessed it, toasts the full tossing slice.

*All Dragons proceed to make me an offer for all of the money and no equity, all they ask for is a toaster that fits bread. I eventually settle for Duncan because he’s a dude and Hilary because she reminds me of Skeletor, and you don’t fuck with Skeletor.*

Dragons Toast

It is difficult to believe that in an age where technology can rebuild someone’s face after a terrible accident or allows us to make a TV the size of a small planet, that the manufacturers of toasters are still unable to fathom the size of a slice of freaking bread.

You’d imagine that the first thing you would do when you set out to make a toaster is find out how big a slice of bread is these days. This isn’t 1930 anymore. Sure you can cook crumpets or muffins in there as well as other miniature bread based products. But I like toast, and sometimes nothing else will suffice.

Recently I found myself in need of a new toaster as my last one was not only rubbish, but it also kinda caught fire. My fire marshal training finally came in handy as I carefully unplugged it, picked up the mini inferno and put it out in the garden to burn to its capacitors content.

I picked up a four-slice toaster from another smoldering remnant (Comet) but I don’t actually have any intention of cooking four slices at once ever. My logic was that I needed the length of a 4 slice to put bread in on its side to try and cook the whole thing. Turns out even that isn’t enough for a trusty slice of Warburtons.

Just imagine the beauty of a toaster that toasts a whole slice of bread. This was actually a lyric in the John Lennon song, Imagine. But it had to be cut because Yoko, despite loving almost all things, violently hates toast. And this is why I can never have a constructive conversation with her. She will always throw the toast in my face. Sometimes literally. Which I wouldn’t mind if it was fully toasted, BUT IT NEVER IS!

But seriously how difficult is it to make a toaster sized to suit its primary raw material? Is there some kind of scientific principal that prevents such a thing that I am unaware of? I am sure this comes down to electronics manufactures being morons.

So this is a call out to all bread lovers and entrepreneurs out there. I challenge you to construct the super-toaster – a toaster with the capacity for an entire slice of Warburtons. Or maybe this mythical beast already exists out there like the Sasquatch or David Cameron’s conscience. Should this be the case, I require proof in photo form, accompanied with brand, model number and price. I don’t care which way this happens, but in exchange you will have my eternal crumby gratitude and a proper slice of toast.

Simon Button: Hard hitting journalism at its best.

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