Laundry Day is a Very Dangerous Day

 Once upon a time, there was a fluffy blanket named Ralph.

 Ralph, as most protagonists are, was bored with his life and wanted adventure. His friends tried to tell him to just be happy with the life he had. After all, he was already a successful spy and billionaire. On a slow day he killed 4 people before breakfast.

 But at the end of the day, he still had to go home and be used by some slob named Billiams to keep him warm and soak up his night sweats.

 

 Some days, Billiams would ring his sweat out of Ralph and hang him up to dry on the washing line outside. Ralph saw his chance, and he took it. He wiggled out from the pegs and let the winds carry him off to a new land.

 This new land turned out to be the next door neighbor's back yard. But it was an opportunity to introduce himself to that hot welcome mat he'd never had a chance to talk to.

 "Hey there, honey bunches of hotness. I'm Ralph, local spy and all around bitchin' guy. What's your name?"

 

 The welcome mat giggled and blushed. Ralph knew he was well in there. This seemed like a good time to pull the old yawn and arm around the shoulders technique. At this point he realised he had no arms. 'Wait, what?' he thought. 'How have I come to far in life without arms? This is worse than when Timmy Cried.' At this point in his colourful life, Ralph knew he had to set out on a quest for arms. His logic went something like this: Ralph with arms > Ralph without arms > Pokemon. If he could come so far in life without arms, just imagine what he could do with arms! (Aside from having awesome pulling power, of course)

 

 So he left the freshly-wooed welcome mat there, all horny and ready to put out, to search for some fine hunks of manly appendage. The first logical place to look he could think of was in the sewers. It was a dark and stormy day, and he could just ride the street flood into the nearest drain.

 Once inside he came to a shop that sold arms, just as he'd predicted. However the cheapest pair was one billion and one dollars. "Damn," said Ralph. "One dollar short. And payday's not until Friday."

 Defeated, he crawled back out of the depths of a world most humans only dreamt of and caught a ride on the next passing turnip truck.

 'Now,' thought Ralph, 'I have two choices before me. Either I decide to be content with no arms, and return to a life of billionairiness and spying, or I look for some other way to get arms... Or, I could spy on someone who has arms, and assassinate them, and take their arms.'

 Ralph found he could not use a dead man's arms. He tried sewing them to himself, but they wouldn't move, however much he willed them.

 'I need a magician,' he thought. So he found one, living in a hovel in the woods and eating mushrooms. He told Ralph he could cast a spell on the arms to make them do just as Ralph wished. So Ralph paid up his billion pounds (which the wizard went on to spend on all the mushrooms he could ever desire, and saw some crazy shit), and the wizard cast the spell.

 Ralph walked away, contented, swinging his arms like the mofo he was (he was an expert at walking though he had no legs).

 Ralph slept that night within the folds of his own blankety self, unaware that the arms had a mind of their own.

 "Hey," he heard through his closed eyelids. "Hey, buddy. Gotta light?" He opened his fluffy eyes and stared in disbelief at his left arm. "C'mon, pal, I'm dying here. I just want a cigar before I have an ulcer. You want I should have an ulcer?"

 He talked in the gruff voice of one of those slightly overweight Italian New Yorkers who never can seem to open their eyes all the way. Like that guy from The Terminator who asks if he has a dead cat in there.

 "Who are you?" said Ralph, hardly daring to believe something like an arm could talk. I mean, it didn't even have lungs! How ridiculous.

 "I'm Berny. And this handsome fellow is my twin, Nerby." "Herro," said Nerby Asianly.

 "Well, what do you guys want?"

 "I told you. A cigar."

 "Well, what about you, Nerby?"

 "Oh, I'm fine, thanks."

 Ralph thought quietly to himself. If he wanted his arms to work for him, he'd do best to keep them happy. And so he set out to the mangy streets at night. Obviously, the only shop still open that sold cigars was a really grungy chippy that was probably a front for a drugs business anyway. Berny smoked his cigar and was content. 

 But it didn't last for long... It started with a cigar, but Berny started asking for more and more objects of desire. And when Ralph didn't satisfy them, Berny would do terrible things to Ralph, too terrible to write about... Nerby, on the other hand, was fine. He was a happy little Asiany arm and he would often fight Berny for Ralph, which gave Ralph such a curious appearance that people thought the poor blanket had an excessive nervous twitch, and gave him a wide berth.

 "If you don't find me a golden marmoset before the day's up, I swear somethin' terrible's gonna happen to ya," Berny threatened threateningly. Ralph had learned to just tune him out. After a glass of warm milk he went to sleep.

 But in the middle of the night he woke up to see a horrific sight. Berny had decapitated Nerby.

 "What the?! How did-! When-? Where the hell did you even get that guillotine!?"

 But yell as he might, nothing could help his poor right-side friend.The hand lay motionless on the ground and the useless stub would serve as a permanent reminder of murder and sadness. Although actually it kinda already did, since he killed someone to get it. But this is different. This is Ralph's sadness.

 "I told ya I weren't to be recognized with," Berny said through a puff of smoke.

 "That doesn't even make sense!" cried Ralph.

 It was too far. Something had to be done. Ralph would have the last laugh, or his name wasn’t Ralph J Belmondo!

 Ralph was at a loss for what to do. He would simply unstitch Berny from himself, but now that Nerby was gone, this was impossible. He needed... someone.

 Just at this point, the hot welcome mat made her appearance.

 She fluttered her eyelids at Ralph, and held up (somehow) a quick-un-pick. Ralph felt something stir in his loins, and wondered if it was acceptable for him to be turned on right now. Before he had a chance to decide, welcome mat had unpicked Berny and toshed him in a skip, where he rolled about in fumes of cigar smoke crying bitterly that he was too Italian and cool for this shit and he never wanted a cigar in the first place anyway, Nerby made him do it.

 Ralph and welcome mat turned away from the skip and looked deeply into each other's flat eyes.

 'Oh, Ralph, you should have known you didn't need to get arms to impress me!' she cried.

 He cried on her shoulder. Well, not shoulder. More like just the upper right corner of her body. It was a touching moment if you don't try to picture it too hard.

 They slept together that night and kept each other warm.

 Then they had a hot threesome with a stray dog and gave birth to a litter of welcome puppies, which turned out to be a big hit with female consumers age 13-13.01. Still, the demographic was large enough to bring in a lot of revenue so they could afford to retire.

 They moved to some island off the coast of some country you probably haven't heard of and lived out their lives playing checkers and watching Happy Days reruns.

 The end