Toaster's Soliloquy

To toast, or not to toast, that is the question:
Whether there's time to wait for it to pop up
Or suffer the expediency of outrageous staleness,
To take spatula against a stick of butter
And by opposing, employ them. To butter, to spread
On flaccid bread; and by a spread to say we eat
The heart-ache and the thousand natural chews
That bread is heir to: 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To toast, to crunch;
To crunch, perchance to dream—ay, there's the rub:
For in that rub of butter, what dreams may come,
When we have nibbled off this toasted slice,
Must give us pause—there's the respect
That makes calamity of stalest loaves.. .