Demons in the Microwave

Our microwave is possessed.  Or rather, it was, now I'm not sure exactly how I would classify it.

The freakishly scary behavior started just after we moved into our new house.  I would put a dish into the microwave and it would shoot sparks and make a loud, growling noise.  As if that weren't bad enough, it then started "cooking" whenever it wanted, and would only stop when it was so inclined.  It once melted a microwave-safe dish--I tried to stop the heat...  I pressed cancel, I pressed pause, I opened the door...  That freakish thing just kept cooking!  I was standing in front of it, turntable turning, lights on, heat still emanating from the unit, and the door was wide open!  It can't be healthy to be standing directly in front of a microwave, with the door open and the thing still running.  I yanked it out of the cabinet, dropped it to the floor, and pulled the plug from the outlet.

The repairman (I use that term very loosely) came next.  I'm not sure if I'd rather deal with the possessed microwave or the diabolical  repairman.  He arrived as scheduled and asked to see the offending appliance.  That wicked kitchen appliance but on a deceptive show and worked flawlessly.  (Go figure, right?)  The repairman then charged me $75 and told me it looked like it was working as designed.  I described the usual (unusual) activity that we had experienced but he said that unless he saw that activity first hand there was nothing else he could do.

I played devil's advocate and asked the hypothetical question:

IF the microwave ever did X, what would you say the problem was...?

He told me that IF that ever did happen, the expected repair would cost about $200 (that, of course, being in addition to the $75 I had already paid--a new unit costing about $300).  I said I'd pass on the repair.  duh.

So, we've been dealing with ghoulish growling, malevolent melting, depraved defrosting, corrupt cooking, and all methods of madness.  That is, until last night.  It a final act of dastardly defiance, the microwave tortured me one last time with a blatant refusal to do my bidding.  It held my popcorn hostage.  After a long day, all I wanted was a salty, crunchy snack--and that mean microwave flatly refused.  It popped three kernels and then just kept spinning that turntable and the popcorn bag...  Nothing happened...  No more popping.  No heat.  The lights were on, but nobody was home, so to speak.  And that's how it has remained.  A shell of its former self.  Buttons and lights, motion without benefit...  I hate that thing (but how can you live without one?)!  And now I'll be spending $300 for another one.