When Joe put his laundry in the dryer, he checked his watch before setting the time. He had about an hour before he needed to be on his way, and he could very well just leave his clothes in the laundry-mat. The were hip, but not hip enough to deter theft all together. Fuck. He put his hands to his forehead and stared at the settings while he tried to figure out how he could solve this problem. Fluff, no heat; Delicates, low heat; Cotton, regular heat. They were all the usuals, except for one that looked strange. He shook his head and did a double take. No, it definitely read “ Crazy, the heat of a thousand suns.” He couldn't believe his luck, with a load this big the heat of a thousand suns was the only way for him to make it to his interview on time. He hauled his laundry in quickly and giggled, giddy with excitement he hadn't felt since the first time he'd done his laundry; the time he realized the machines don't actually fold shirts for you. He set the heat to 'crazy' and turned the switch at which point the world exploded and all sentient life was wiped off the face of the planet.