Well. Wonderful. My apartment smells of smoke. My friend, trying to make popcorn, apparently hit the wrong button on the microwave. And in not paying complete attention, comes to realize something isn't right. At that realization, we turn around to find the kitchen full of black smoke. How the smoke detectors didn't go off is truly beyond me. The smoke was thick, smelled horrible, and just burned our lungs. In a panic, we throw open the front door, open up the windows, turn on every fan I own, and try to get the smoke out without creating any kind of panic. The plastic bowl the popcorn came in had literally melted away having sat in the microwave, on high, for over 5 minutes. The popcorn itself having gone beyond the ash stage. I have liberally sprayed the place down with 2X strength Febreeze, and you can still smell it. I'm really not happy about this. I'm not even slightly amused by this turn of events. Even more, I'm deeply concerned that not one of the three smoke alarms in here went off. I'm thankful they didn't, but concerned all the same. I'm also actually pretty grateful that there isn't any smoke damage in anything other than the microwave - which turned a sickly shade of yellow brown across the interior, mostly along the bottom. I'm not 100% certain all of that will ever come off. There is a black spot melted onto the glass from the melted bowl. Parts of it came off, and I'm not sure if I'll get it completely out. But what is getting to me the most is simply that burned smell. Like the smell from a place that burned. It makes my hair stand up a bit, and I'm just going to have try to Febreeze it all away if I can. I'm just going to have to deal with it a while and the memories of our house burned down so long ago.