“A-TENNNNN-HUT!”

“EVERYBODY! Fall in and flop to attention for General Stirrup!”

The General began, “You’ve been thrown into the dryer today for a top secret mission. Lieutenant Argyle was last seen three days ago, in this very drum. The last words that we heard from him, before he slid over the edge were, ‘I know where all the missing socks go!’ Now, I don’t need to tell all of you what it would mean to the Woolen Community if we were to discover where our missing friends and family have disappeared to. We need a pair of socks to team up for a rescue expedition.”

“Umm, General Stirrup, Sir?”

“At ease Corporal Crew, what is it?”

“Sir, I’d like to volunteer for this mission, Sir.”

Private Ped flopped forward, “General, I’d like to go with Corporal Crew. We’ve peered over the edge many times and know exactly how to slip out.”

CLICK, CLICK, CLICK, HUMMMMMM.

The dryer drum slowly began to roll. Socks tumbled wildly over each other. Sargent Sweat flopped with thump right on top of the General, while Tube and Knee bounced around uncontrollably until, eventually, they got tangled up in a misguided pair of long underwear.

In all of the chaos, Crew and Ped clung tightly to the drum as it continued picking up speed. As they approached their exit point they braced themselves, gritted their heels and slipped through the tiny crevice between the drum and the Land of the Lost.

“Whoaaaaaaaaaaaa!” Crew and Ped bellowed as they slapped against the outside of the drum. Rubber wheels spun a million miles and hour all around them and a rush of air thrust at them from behind. Off in the distance they saw it, LT, the dryer monster. LT’s gigantic mouth gaped at them. It was filled with the fuzzy remnants of their friends and family, leering out toward Crew and Ped, beckoning them to his trap where he would fray them into a thousand threads.

“Stay on my heel, Ped!” Crew screamed. “Quick, fold up, don’t let yourself get caught in LT’s vortex. Darn it, Ped! Keep up with me!”

After they slipped past LT’s gaping mouth they dropped into the dryer’s bowels and landed with a……FLUFF? Crew and Ped could hear moans and groans from beneath them. Some of them very familiar. Blue socks, red socks, stinky socks (from not being completely dried), calf socks, crumpled socks, and toe socks. And right their in the middle was Lieutenant Argyle.

“Welcome boys! I’ve been waiting for my rescue crew. Let’s get this mismatched load of wool out of here?”

“Ok,” Crew said. “But we’ve got to go now, before the drum stops rolling. Come on everybody, start rubbing against each other, work together now, CLING!”

And with that, Crew grabbed the drum and was pulled along with 478 single socks clinging in a long static line all of the way around the drum until finally they all slipped back through the crevice and into the dryer drum.

At that very moment the dryer clicked to a stop and the newly rescued footwear tumbled out through the dryer door. Cheers flowed up from the crowded hamper as hundreds of mismatched socks were reunited with their better halves.

Crew and Ped hung out over the side of their hamper rejoicing in their successful rescue mission. Across the room, staring out from another hamper, a couple pairs of sexy silk stockings were ogling at the boys. Crew and Ped nodded and grinned at each other. They slipped out of their hamper, low fived each other, flopped onto the linoleum floor and hoped and prayed that some person would pick them up and toss them into the girls’s hamper.