The tale of Fluffygedon
Once upon a time (Wednesday) in a far off land (the laundry room) a beautiful and normally incredibly bright and talented and funny and wonderful queen Bekah (who is writing this fanfic) made a terrible mistake. Here is the tale of her woe.

Bekah and her husband took a day off from their tireless duties and spent a relaxing day shopping. The husband wanted a new blanket and Bekah wanted new pillows for the bed and matching cases for the couch.
Once everything was purchased and they had enjoyed a lovely meal they went home. The pillows were pulled out of their tiny tubes, and so was the blanket. Bekah tossed all three in the washing machine, and walked off, eager to enjoy some couch time with her husband. After a time there was a strange vreeeeeeeee sound and she got up and ran to the washer. The pillows had quadrupled in size and were sticking out of the wash basin as it was going through the spin cycle. Annoyed at the interruption Bekah pulled them out and vaguely noticed that one of the pillows had a tiny slit in the fabric. Determined to deal with it later she went back to finish her show.
After the show she put the blanket in the dryer and the pillows back in the wash. Then, forgetting the slit went to relax once again. Once the dryer was done she came out to swap laundry. That was when she remembered the cut in the fabric. She quickly sewed it up and put both pillows in the dryer. Distractedly she glanced in the washer but did not see anything left in the basin.

What she didn't know was the extent of the problem. The one that was building in the washer and dryer. The problem she added to as she filled the basin with the new covers she had bought, in order to dye later, and the fluffy, fuzzy blanket she had gotten for her husband.

When the wash cycle buzzed it's end, she did not know the problems that were waiting for her. Like the beginning of all good horror movies, she was in a rush and did not bother to take the time needed to turn on the overhead light. In dim light she reached into the wash basin and pulled out the blanket. Frowning she noticed that the new blanket seemed to have shed quite a bit in it's first wash. Annoyed that she might have purchased a defective blanket from those wiley Swedes she pulled it out and tossed it into the dryer.

Once the dryer was running she reached in again to remove the covers that she had planned to dye. She shook them out. And blinked in amazement as it started to snow inside her laundry room. Unsure what had happened she took a step toward the light switch, needing extra light to figure out what had fallen around her. Her  first step slipped and she had to catch herself on the side of the dryer. Something thin and slick covered the floor. Fearing that a hose had broken and that was why the floor was slippery and slightly damp she shuffled to the light and flipped it on.

Everything was covered in a delicate white fluff. She stared at the cloth in her hand. It was coated. As were her arms, legs, feet, shirt, the shelves, the washer, the dryer, the cat food, the stack of papers along the back wall, the desk, everything. "Well. Shit." She laughed, then instantly regretted it. The delicate tiny balls of synthetic fibers had already started to dry on her shirt and wafted up her nose with her indrawn breath.

Coughing, and trying not to laugh, she retrieved the other covers and briskly shook them out. It made an even larger mess, but she hoped to contain it all in the one small room in order to clean it up quickly.

As if hearing her hopes and dreams, reality kicked in, kicked her in the teeth, and kicked on the heating fan.


White fluff everywhere. And spreading.

"Oh shit!" She yelled delicately. "Fuck fuck fuck!" She sang as she tried to chase the fleeing piles of fluff. As she bent over to make a pile of the mess more of the nearly weightless mass fell from her head and drifted off into the kitchen.

"Is everything ok in there?" Her husband called from the other room.

"I made a giant fucking mess!" She assured him.

With his help they were able to make an even bigger mess as he smartly snapped up the covers and took them into the center of the house to finish shaking off. Satisfied that the air currents drifting through every room of the house, aided by his vigorous arm movements had removed every bit of fluff from the covers he proudly presented his wife with her defluffed covers while showing off his brand new white beard. Having just finished sweeping the laundry room and stuffing all of the loose fluff in the garbage can there she sighed and took the covers from him.

She spent the next few minutes setting up the dye solution and setting the damp, but supposedly clean covers into the dye bath, then swept up the kitchen as well. She thought about sending her robot servant to vacuum the rest of the house, but decided against it. He could easily choke on the balls of fluff and then would cry all night until his battery died or he was saved.

She finished up the rest of the laundry, pulling out the dry blanket. And was rewarded with another snowfall as the fluff that had been invisible while wet fell around her in dry piles. Cleaning up the second (third?) mess she folded the blanket and put it away. Then she pulled out the lint trap. It stuck for a moment, then popped free, letting loose a fluff and lint avalanche that fell around the dryer on all sides. Using her trusty broom she once again cleaned up the mess, noting that her husband had exhausted himself with his day of relaxation and gone to bed. She rinsed her dyed cloth, left it to dry and went to bed herself.

The next morning, after a bracing cup of the elixir of life (coffee) she inspected her newly dyed covers. Pleased with the color and pattern she shook the wrinkles free. And watched in dismay and more of the white fluffiness fell out of the folds and onto the ground. This time her cat was awake. And ready to take the place of her master, the husband, who had gone to work already. Following his example she used her body and rapid arm movements and chased the tiny piles of fluff all over the house, making sure to jump on every item of furniture she could, and could not, reach. That was when Bekah realized that the lovely cloud like pattern in her dye job wasn't from her expert application of the dye (at least not completely) but was instead caused by the synthetic fluff stuck between the layers of cotton.

Annoyed at how things had turned out Bekah took the covers to the washer. As soon as she opened the lid large puffs of fluff that had been hiding in the bleach and fabric softener dispensers, and dried overnight, puffed out on the breeze. Bekah tossed the covers in the washer and gathered up all the fluff that she could and shoved it into the garbage can again. A garbage can that was suspiciously NOT full of fluff any longer. Sighing at this other newest development, she closed and started the washing machine. Then she turned to the garbage can. The piles of fluff she had swept up the night before were mostly missing. A few tufts were still dancing in the morning light, floating away on the warm breeze of the heat that had kicked on again at the first sight of snow in the air. 

Bekah flinched as she heard the scrabble of claws as her stalwart extra fluffy cat raced around, killing every piece of fluff she came into contact with. Filled with despair, Bekah got another cup of the elixir of life (coffee) and retreated to her computer.

Legend says that she sits there still, typing away as the fluff is chased into corners by stupid cats, and chokes the life out of her robot servant.