D and the Laundry Demon
By N.S.D
"Oh give 'em a wring and hang 'em to dry
Fiddle dee, twiddle dee, fiddle dee fi!
Swirl in the water and they'll come out fine
Fiddle dee fi, oh my, oh my!
Beat out the stains till none meet the eye
Fiddle dee, twiddle dee, fiddle dee fi!
Scrub 'em and rub 'em and hang 'em to dry
Fiddle dee dee, oh me oh my!
Wash on a rock or wash in a tub
Fiddle dee, twiddle dee, fiddle de fi!
Makes no difference s'long as you scrub
Fiddle dee dee, oh my oh me!
Then get your fine penny, and "thank ye" again
Fiddle dee fi, and that's how it ends!"
The strains of the strange song slinked through the forest to reach the Hunter's finely pointed ears. As did the sounds of splashing and a brook. As D rounded the bend the singer of the odd little song came into view. It was as funny as it's song. The thing looked like a little man with long, long arms and long, long legs and a funny little bald head. The oddest thing is how it was purple and its big yellow eyes glowed a bit. The little man-thing looked up and grinned at the Hunter with pointy little teeth. It had been sitting but now as it stood D could see the long, long flat tail it had.
"What are you?" D asked. The little man looked at him and started to laugh. It's laugh sounded like a washing machine going 'slosh slosh slosh slosh'.
"Why, I am the one and only laundry demon! For a penny and a good fight I'll wash anything you ask me to." The little man-thing chortled. It was a real demon, so it was probly lying about something, but the offer was pretty good…
"Take it, take it, you've been putting off laundry for too long, D!" A rusty voice said from D's left hand. As if that was all the answer it needed, the laundry demon produced two thin slashing blades from who-knows-where and leapt at D. What the demon didn't count on was that the hunter could draw his sword in less time than it took for a were-wolf to strike, let alone a lazy demon. The demon's attack was halted by the feeling of cold steel pressing ever so lightly against his throat. In an eye blink the Hunter kicked upwards and sent the skinny demon flying into a tree. When the purple man-thing woke up again, a bundle of black clothes were lying on the ground next to a shiny penny and a note asking them to be done by the next morning. Grinning in delight, the demon scrambled back to it's stream and started to wash happily.
Morning came early the next day, and D returned to pick up his laundry. Everything was there, blacker then night and folded as to more efficiently fit into saddlebags. D began to pack it up while keeping a wary eye out for the laundry demon. He was nearly finished when he noticed something peculiar that sent his left hand into spasms of laughter.
The laundry demon had taken D's socks.
A/n: okay, so this is my first intentional bit of comedy. I would also like to mention that the infamous purple laundry demon seems to have stolen some of the authoress' socks as well, so the authoress is warning her good readers against the dangers of Laundromats in general and giant demon-infested sock-eating washing machines in specific. C-ya!!!