Carrie floated and fluttered down the laundry chute, buffeted by the hot, moist air surging up from below. She glided to a stop, landing in a bag with their hotel room number on it.
She was immediately snatched up by a pair of beefy, calloused hands. Carol, of the housekeeping staff, inspected the flattened cartoon mouse closely and snorted, “Another tourist playing ‘Laundromat’.”
Her partner, Janice, agreed. “Yah, it’s not like you’re going to catch one of us putting on a animal costume and diving into a pile of dirty linens.”
“Well, the customer is always right,” Carol sighed. “It’s my turn to give her the full Toonworld experience.” She pushed a button labeled ‘The Works’. Lights flashed, a siren blared and an old-fashioned tub washer emerged from a closet. Carol tossed Carrie in and filled it with boiling water. The old wooden agitator in the middle pounded up and down, dashing Carrie against the wall of the tub as she floated through the turbulence.
After a few minutes, Carol fished Carrie out and let the sopping wet mouse drip into the tub. “Dainty little thing, ain’t she. Better adjust the gap.” She made sure the rollers were set extra tight and flat before she fed Carrie into the old-fashioned wringer. “Hey, Janice, did ya catch that flick last night?” Carol was so busy chatting with her partner, she didn’t notice Carrie’s damp fur made her stick to the rollers. She was rolled around a few times before Carol noticed she hadn’t slid off into the receiving tray.
She tossed Carrie into the dryer, where she stuck to the inside of the drum with a splat. Carol peered in. “I’m going to need something in there to give her a good pounding and fluff her out. Hand me those bowling balls.”
After ten minutes of high heat and noise, Carol withdrew Carrie from the dryer. She was three-dimensional again, a fluffy, puffy ball of fur so charged with static cling she couldn’t move any more than to blink her eyes. “Dang, I forgot the fabric softener,” Carol snapped. “Well, don’t matter. I’ll just put on some extra starch to control that fly-away fur.” She tossed Carrie into the open steam press and clanged cover down. She sat on handle to apply extra pressure.
“Aren’t you overdoing it?” Janice asked.
“Nah,” Carol scoffed. “She came down pre-flattened. Must be the way she wants to go back up.” She opened the press to spray Carrie with a liberal dose of starch. She was pretty well flattened again into her basic surprised pose. Carol slammed the cover shut, until everything between the plates dried out perfectly and it stopped hissing.
She lifted Carrie off the steamer plate, holding her stiff little tail between two fingertips and spinning her around. “Hey, look, Janice. I got a lollipop.” They both laughed at that one.
“You going to fold her any more?” Janice asked.
“Nah. She’s too small and I got a pile of sheets to do.” Carol gave Carrie another dose of starch and a trip through the steam press before she slipped the stiffened mouse against a sheet of cardboard backing in a small, clear plastic envelope and sealed it shut. She scribbled the room number on it with a grease pencil and handed it to a bellboy to deliver.
Thanks to the Law of Cartoon Time Discontinuity*, the bellboy arrived outside the room door with his laundry delivery only moments after the Dragon dropped Carrie down the laundry chute. He knocked smartly on the door and slid Carrie in through the delivery slot. “Laundry,” he announced.
*Events happening to separated characters can take different amounts of time in different locations, as long as everyone winds up back at the same time when they meet again.