The Cure

After realizing I seriously have had writer's block for the past few days, I stumbled upon an interesting website full of many prompts. The prompt: "Write from the point of view of a spoon inside the dishwasher." Here's it goes...
My vision slowly transferred from a blur to a speckled clarity. I can't remember much; just a form of torture I suppose. Whatever this mammoth beast was, it kept placing me in a loud dark hole inside them. This slimy red thing wouldn't leave me alone. All the weight pressing down on top of me; I couldn't take it anymore. Finally it stopped and water was poured in and all over my companion Mr. Bowls. This giant creature was taking us somewhere new. It wasn't located inside it thank god. The first orifice was terrible enough for my lifetime. I watched as Mr. Bowls was carried onto the top shelf of this hell. I didn't want to be alone in here. I was tossed into a box with no top. I almost landed on a fellow fiend I swear I knew from somewhere. We shared the same room. He seemed very nice once you got past his serrated edges. We shared a tough stare before he spoke.
"New kid, eh?"
I looked up in confusion. He seemed wise and older. I trusted him completely for some reason. "Where the hell am I?"
"You're in hell my friend. After you're scrubbed free of you misery by the steaming hot water, it gets more humid than a sauna."
The way he is talking is scaring me. I couldn't help but burst into tears when I heard a locking sound from outside. This can't be good. He was right. The water started flying out from underneath my room. It was hotter than I've ever felt before. I looked up to see Mr. Bowls screaming in agony. Then he started giggling. I wasn't sure what to think. Several minutes passed and the water stopped spraying. It began getting very muggy. I looked around for my new friend. I couldn't see a centimeter in front of me. Walking over to the other wall, I tripped and fell. I was helpless. I couldn't get up. Everything faded to black.