The challenge word is fluff. Last time I checked, I still don't own them.
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Sam dragged his dirty laundry through the bunker halls. Dean poked his head out of his room, looking perplexed.
"Oh come on," he said. "Our laundry can't be this bad enough to be washed, fluffed, and folded."
That prompted Sam to go inside his brother's room, walk straight to the closet door (which Dean was now standing in front of), and open it.
CLOTHING AVALANCHE!
Weeks of dirty laundry fell out of the closet, right on top of Dean, knocking him down with it.
"You were saying?" Sam asked.
"Shut up," Dean said, spitting a sock out of his mouth.
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