For several years during high school I worked as a
popcorn jockey for
Kerasotes Theatres in Indiana, and spent many a night behind the
concession stand slinging bags of golden greasy goodness to ungrateful movie patrons. Any
lower primate could make a batch of popcorn--you scoop out a load of
kernals, pour in some neon-orange salt, dump it into the
kettle and hit the oil button (specially designed to deliver a carefully measured amount of oil directly into the kettle). Well, to shake up the monotony between showtime
rushes, we occassionally made a batch and hit the oil button _twice_. The result, if one was daring enough to pry up the kettle lid and have a peek, was a near-brimming batch of bubbling, molten popcorn kernal
soup. When it finally began popping you thought you'd found
the end of the rainbow, as your slightly soggy product came raining down like a shower of
bullion. Mixed in with the normal batches, it gave our bags of popcorn an extra kick unmatched by those stuffed-shirts over at
Cinemark.
Of course, if you accidently hit the button a third time...