I killed my fridge last night with a carving knife!! Some may claim that I am guilty of brutal murder, though I am going to vehemently claim manslaughter. I admit that I did stab the freezer compartment of the fridge several times in a frenzied attack, but I maintain that at no time did intend to kill it, and was acting from a position of diminished responsibility, thinking that I was acting in the best interests of the deceased.

Butchered: Whirpool Fridge Just 9 months old

My story goes like this:

At approximately 18.00 hours on the 17th August 2010 I attempted to shut the door of the fridge. I discovered that the freezer compartment of the deceased was so loaded with ice that I had to take immediate action to rectify the problem. I then took it upon myself to eradicate the problem by hacking the ice away with a carving knife, which in hindsight was a risky task that could have ended in serious injury to me as well as the fridge. Little was I to know how tragic outcome was to be.

I admit, that having checked the manual, that at no point does it recommend hacking the ice away with a carving knife, and it did cross my mind to simply empty the fridge, turn it off and allow it to defrost by natural causes. However lack of patience got the better of fundamental common sense, and I proceeded with vigour, to attack the iced compartment wholeheartedly, refusing to be outwitted by it’s stubborn resistance.

Just as I appeared to be on the point of winning the battle against the ice, my knife got stuck in a large block to the rear of the compartment. Thinking nothing of my own safety, I started hitting the butt of the knife with the palm of my hand to make the final breakthrough. When this failed I hit the knife harder still with the heel of my shoe which sent a loud and rewarding crack through the remaining ice.

Just as I was about to celebrate my successful mission, there was a loud hissing noise followed by a minor explosion of misty gas in my face which temporarily blinded me and gave me an instant headache. Then………. silence. Sensing the seriousness of the situation, my eldest son left the kitchen as I came to terms with what I had done. I went in to what I can only describe as a period of denial, switching the fridge on and off several times in a futile attempt to bring it back to life, a bit like a doctor hopelessly banging a defibrillator on to a dead heart attack patient.

I rang a friend and my Father, both of whom confirmed that I had in effect cut the main artery which enabled the fridge to operate, and that I had to face up to the implications of this inexplicable procedure, and accept I had killed the fridge and there was no turning back the clock, my actions could not be reversed. I pulled the deceased on to my garden patio, plugging it in one time by the back door, just to see the little internal light come on one more time as a mark of respect.

Dead……….and it was only nine months old!!!