“Shut up about your pooch, I´m on the phone to get the goddamned washing machine fixed.”
In the basement, the family pet inspected the machine´s mouth and the pile of chewed socks beside it.
“Sorry to speak harsh, Father Sanchez. It´s just we need your help.
The door closed on the creature inside with a thump, and then the grinding of the drum´s metal teeth began – drowning out the poodle´s yelps. The metal tag around its neck scratched against the glass pane revealing the legend – “Lucky”.
“Oh God! I can hear it down below! It´s moving!”
As the soapy water began to crimson, the dials on the unplugged machine clicked to their final settings: 6 – 6 – 6. The legion of appliances began to spark up.