I am Bluestar.

Look upon me and tremble.

Yea, though we duggest ourselves a mighty hole of debt, we compromised not for our killer range. Meet the 36" RNB Bluestar, the primo bitchenest 36" range on the planet. "Largest oven capacity available on a 36" range; the most powerful burner available, 22,000 BTU; accomodates a full-size commercial 18" x 26" baking sheet; 24" depth." This range is for a real kitchen where a real man is gonna cook, not one of those poofy, "Oh, look how rich I am!" show kitchens. Hot enough to transmute base metals into gold, durable enough to survive wormhole travel; and it gives sensual massages, too. Today we checked the status of the Money Pit and saw, in the middle of our torn-up living room floor, Our Precious, still wrapped in her factory plastic, a smug vision of culinary voluptuousness. "I am Bluestar," she whispered. "Thirty years from now, when you're still working nights in the ER to pay off your quintuple mortgage, you'll come home and see me, every bit as beautiful and functional as I am today, and you'll know it has all been worthwhile." "I've been burned before," I said. "Say you won't hurt me like the others." "You know I can't promise you that." I couldn't speak. I couldn't even see straight. "I'll burn you worse than any woman has ever burned you before," she continued. "You know I will. But I can promise you one thing: I'll always be here for you." "You will?" "You gorgeous man: as long as I have gas in my pipes, I'll be the hottest thing you've ever touched. My love for you will never cool." And, somehow, those words made it all worthwhile. D.