It seems someone in NZ is trying to get rid of their washing machine, but not just any washing machine: a washing machine possessed by the “tortured howls of 1000 undead writhing in the sulphury pits of hell mixed with a train with carriages full of scrap iron sliding down the road with no wheels, on fire, into a bell factory.”
True to their word, the person includes a slideshow of the dinosaurs.
My mom had a washing machine that was old when she got it. It sat in an alcove across the hall from my bedroom. It would rock back and forth on the spin cycle. One day I came out of my room to adjust the load and try to make it stop rocking. The damn thing was walking across the hall straight at me! I jumped out of the way, and it came into my room as far as the cord would allow then just rocked in place. I couldn’t turn it off. My mom had to unplug it, and I had to climb over it to get out of my room.
Many years ago, we had an ancient wringer washer, the kind with rollers above the tub to squeeze out most of the water before you’d hang the wash on the line to dry. It was possessed, like the ones mentioned above, walking around the basement and emitting screeches and howls of agony from time to time. Eventually, my parents traded it in on a modern washer with a spin cycle and all. The old washer sat on the hardware store’s loading dock for several weeks.
Then the building burned. The only thing saved was that washer. It stayed on the remaining corner of the loading dock for several more weeks, and disappeared the day before the ruins were scheduled for demolition.
It may still be out there somewhere.
That is genuinely hilarious. Every so often Trade Me comes up gold.
The seller’s sense of humour seems to have resulted in bids that aren’t going to be honoured, so their ad has backfired.