Made for burning slices, but the right time is key. The temperature rises for a golden brown to be.

I have no mouth, yet I swallow entire hills. I have no hands, yet I measure the hours. The stars above outnumber me, though I cover the world below. A mountain’s heavy weight, yet a gentle breeze can move me. Build me high, and a simple wave will steal my crown; Heat me hot, and you can see right through me.

Buckle, loop, asteroid. Conveyor, timing, fan. Bible, corn, black. Championship.

What has ten letters and starts with gas?

Give me a wave and say a word, and suddenly the laws of nature seem absurd.