It's Not Suppose To Do That... | Prilla and Brooke
Brooke maneuvered down a flight of stairs, through the kitchen, kicked opened the door to the small laundry room, and dropped the laundry basket down on the floor. "Ugh!" She stood up straight and let out a deep breath before gathering her hair into one hand and quickly put her hair into a messy bun. Stepping up to the washer, she opened the door and started throwing her jeans into the machine. She hummed quietly as she threw in her clothes. Laundry day wasn't so bad when you could do it in the comfort of your own home and in sweats.
She closed the machine once everything was thrown in and poured in the detergent. Still humming as she pressed the warm cycle button and stepped back. Her hand went to her hip as she waited to hear the start of the cycle. Instead, the machine cried out as if it was in pain. "No, no, no. Please...!" It was a pretty old machine, but it had been reliable - until now. Suddenly suds poured out from the door, partnered with water, and lots of it. "Oh no, oh no, oh no no no..." She ran for the house, knowing Prilla was around somewhere. "PRILLA! PRILLA! THE WASHING MACHINE IS ANGRY!"