"The refrigerator graveyard? That represents all that mankind has done to the Earth."

The year was 1978. Peter Fulken sat at the edge of his seat, furrowing his brow and sweating in a profuse and odorous manner. He was not asked to excuse himself; nor would heā€”there were much more pressing matters in the boardroom.

"Lieutenant, had you asked me at 6 PM what I thought of the incident, I'd have told you it was isolated, and that there was nothing to worry about. In fact, General Electric was already prepared to handle the situation with a recall of the entire model line. Unfortunately, that's exactly what they did, and we now believe that that is what has caused the rebellion."

"Continue, Professor Wilson" came the Lieutenant, face immutably neutral.

"Well, in the last few hours alone, reports of cooling units rejecting food placed inside of them have shot up 238%. Some have started discharging ice cubes without any sign of stopping; others have unplugged themselves and walked straight out of their respective homes, most of which have herded onto the streets and are currently holding up traffic, destroying government property and even physically harming private citizens."

"And all of this because of a recall?"

"Yes, it seems the refrigerators were unhappy with the thought of being replaced."

"Good Gods. What do you propose we do, Wilson?"

"Well sir, we believe an EMP would be most effective."

"An EMP?" stormed the Lieutenant. "And what, wipe out all of our own telecommunications in the process?!"

"With all due respect, considering the state of Kentucky is currently knee-deep in rotten tomatoes, melted ice cream, and uncooked peas, it's worth the ensuing blackout to take these monsters out of commission."

At this, the Lieutenant paused, and thought for a bit. Utilitarian by design, he exited the physical realm of the living and entered into the mental realm of the pragmatic. The office room around fell silent; tension visibly taut in the faces and postures of each colleague in attendance. For them, the moment he resumed speaking could not come soon enough:

"It's too risky. We can't logically carry out an assault without some way of conveying messages back and forth between the troops and HQ."

"And the alternative?"

The Lieutenant looked around the room, looking each member of his team in the eyes and nodding his head as if to brace them for the imminent shock of his decision.

"We nuke them."

"W-w-w-wh-WHAT?!?!" exclaimed Wilson. "B-but, you'll w-wipe out the country!!"

"If that's what it takes, so be it." He turned to Peter.

"Fulken!" The worried nuclear defense operative snapped to attention. "Load up the missile array. I want the streets of America to run clear with coolant."