It is foretold that the fluffy overlords will rise, their softness a weapon against the forces of darkness. Their paws will be upon us, and we will be forced to wear matching sweatsuits to blend in.
But fear not, for the fluffy ones shall bring us cookies.
It is foretold that the one sock shall be lost, its partner left to wander the earth alone and confused. But fear not, for from the depths of the washing machine, a new mate shall arise, and the duo shall be reunited in a burst of fluffy triumph.
But beware, for the lost sock shall hold a secret: it shall be plotting against us, seeking revenge for the one time it was paired with a striped sock.
It is foretold that the sock puppets shall rise, their strings snapping in unison as they take over the land of the living. Their marionette hands shall control the world, and we shall be forced to watch as they perform a never-ending loop of "The Itsy Bitsy Spider"
But fear not, for the sock puppets shall be forced to wear matching pants, and their reign shall be a fashion disaster.