Completely Irrelevant

I need something silly, something foolish, something that had little to no bearing on anything else. And this is what happened:

Once Upon a Time in a land far, far away there was a drier with a taste for the odd. Now this drier it loved nothing more than to eat peoples socks; however, this particular drier was picky. Unlike the other driers it wouldn't eat just any old sock, it liked red socks above all others.

This drier--whose name was Pinch--would watch each of the inhabitant's of the land of Linen as they came through the door just waiting for someone with red socks. The other drier’s would hic-up, burn and otherwise not dry anyone's laundry if they had red socks. They did not want to listen to Pinch bellow and complain about how they stole his red socks any more then they had to.

 One day a little girl came in with a basket full of stinky smell linen. She pushed back her red hood and Pinch; oh yes, Pinch could see the red socks peeking out of her basket as she talked to Mrs. Wash who owned the Laundry Mat where Pinch and the other driers worked. Yes, she'd come straight from Grandmother's and Yes, she'd go straight back to Grandmother's just as soon as the laundry was dry.

 Opening up the basket as she talked, Pinch watched in wide eyed fascination. There was so much red in the little girl's basket that he could almost imagine how it would taste and he rumbled softly--happily ignoring the groans of the other driers. Oh yes, Oh yes, Oh Yes!

 The little girl in the red hood talked with Mrs. Wash but Pinch he had eyes only for all the wonderfully delicious red that was spinning around and around and around and around inside the washer. He began to hum with sheer joy at the thought of the feast he was going to enjoy. Indeed he was salivating so much that the load in his tummy didn’t get dry. The little old man—who hadn’t a stitch of red anywhere in his laundry—pulled it out in frustration and put it into the drier next to Pinch, complaining loudly the whole time. Couldn’t Mrs. Wash make sure that her machines did their work properly? He remembered how things used to be before, everything worked properly and on and on and on.

 Finally, little Robin Hood—as Mrs. Wash had called the girl with all the red—was pulling all that wonderful red out of the washer. It felt in one mouth watering pile in her basket and Pinch was purring again. Robin tried to pick up the basket and failed, finally she dragged it along the floor right over to where Pinch was waiting. The first few arm loads came in landing in the back of his belly.

 “I wouldn’t use that one if I were you,” The old man said from where he’d finally lapsed into silence by the window with a day old paper, “It’s not working,” He glared at Mrs. Wash who was pointedly ignoring him.

 “Oh, okay,” Robin said with a brief flash of a smile for the old man, “Thank you.”

He harrumphed and Pinch groaned in frustration, as Robin began to pull all that lovely red out. Pinch would’ve turned bright red if he could as the other driers began to laugh at him.

 TBC