The Dryer

We had a washing machine when I moved into 55 Sweetwood Drive. Drying our clothes was a different matter. When the weather was nice, we'd hang them outside on a clothesline. When the weather wasn't nice, well. we made do. One day, my boss gave me his old clothes dryer. it was a Kenmore, that had a broken start button, but otherwise worked fine. I scrounged around the gas station to try and find a switch that I could press into duty on the dryer, and came up with an old ignition switch from a '67 Volkswagen Beetle. This switch offered an advantage over the stock model, in that you would now need a key to start the dryer. We installed the freshly repaired dryer in a position of authority - next to the stove in the kitchen.

One month, when Al was being more of a prick than usual, I decided to lock the keys to the dryer in my room. He'd given me grief over the phone bill, and I'm not above being petty. Well, Al had laundry, and he wanted to dry it. He wasn't going to hang his clothes outside, so he decided he was going to hot-wire my dryer. he filled the dryer with his wet clothes, and used a kitchen knife to unscrew the front panel. The then used that same knife to cross the connections on the switch - and at that precise moment, his brother Scott walked into the house. Scott was just in time to see Al electrocute himself - someone should have told him that wet hands + stainless steel knife + electricity don't mix. Well, Al jumped back like he'd been bitten by a rottweiler and started dancing around the kitchen like a lunatic.

Needless to say, we all found this hysterical (with the exception of Al, who still had wet clothes and a tingly feeling all over).