In my attempt to soften the blow of our loss, I suggested we try to find someone to replace our friend. We knew it wouldn't be easy, but we felt up to the task.
After many hours of searching high and low, after talking to witness upon witness, we thought we had found a suitable replacement. Alas, the price of the friendship was much to high. He was asking an arm and a leg in exchange for his efforts.
Dejected, we decided to try one last place. We had heard tales of a kingdom, not far from where we pouted, that housed many a rejected prisoner. Wary, but left with no other options, we trudged our way over to the hallowed ground.
We searched high and low, but a certain kinship was not to be found. Then, from the corner of my eye, I spied him. He was standing alone, cowering in the shadows. I ran to him, and upon inspection, did proclaim him noteworthy. I called to the King of the Castle, and asked him to look upon the fellow.
Warily, the King came forth. After a few minutes conversing with the fellow, he, too, deemed him good, and of great value.
But the fellow wasn't sure. He had been rejected by his family, banned from his birthplace... he was ashamed of his weakness. We laughed and assured him all was well....
We spoke with the guard about rescuing him from the fold. The guard was weary, but willing to negotiate. Eventually we agreed upon a price; we would be allowed to take our prize.
Once home and settled, the fellow began to go about his duties. It was with a happy heart that he took to drying clothes, once again.
And what of those imperfections, you ask? How could we possibly love such a weak and lowly dryer?
My answer is thus: I think freckles are cute.
The Moral of the Story: it's what's on the inside that counts.
P.S. Those little freckles up there? Saved me $500 this morning. ca-ching!