If "Final" Meant What My Washer Thinks It Means

My GE brand clothes washer has a problem--it doesn't know when to quit. This is problematic for me, as I have a life to run, and prefer to do it in clean clothes. But my washer has other ideas. There are three parts to its wash cycle: wash, rinse, and final spin. Simple enough, right? Wrong. Completely freaking wrong.

Here's an approximate breakdown of the amount of time each part of the cycle takes:

• Wash: 20 minutes
• Rinse: 15 minutes
• Final Spin: 12 lifetimes

As you can see, it's not evenly distributed. The idea seems straightforward to me--clean the clothes, rinse away the suds, and then give an extra spin to get rid of excess water. But my washer doesn't share this understanding. It apparently believes that it was born to act as a centrifuge, spinning in an endless frenzy until all trace of fibers have been fused to the washing drum. This would not be a problem, except, during the cycle, the washer acquires a metallic kung-fu grip so powerful that not even the jaws of life would allow me to pry it open so that I may grab the last surviving fibers and watch them slowly sift through my fingers as I openly mourn their tragic loss. Time and time again I plead for the existence of my clothes, but the washer, bastard child of the G-Force simulation machines used at NASA, will never yield.

Another victim of my washing machine.

Perhaps this a matter of misunderstanding; the washing machine might just think that "Final Spin" means a spin so long, it is the last thing a person sees before he dies. (To me, it sounds like a super combo from Street Fighter.) But no. That round window stares back at me like a mocking eye--daring me to try and stop it, and laughing at my futile attempts. Surely it knows! Oh! The thousand injuries of washing machine I have borne as best I could!

Pure evil.

What if everything was this way? What if every "final" event lasted as long as this grotesque manipulation of the time/space continuum? I imagine it would be something like this:

• Final exams for fall semester would last the entirety of winter break.
• The "Final Cut" of Blade Runner would spawn three subsequent versions.
• The final destination of any flight would be Jupiter.
• Final Fantasy would be an endless series of games. (Hm, I guess it already is.)
• The NCAA Final Four would occur in the second round, fifteen games before the championship.
• Europe's Final Countdown would become an opus exceeding the lengths of "In A Gadda Da Vida", thereby transforming it from an enjoyably bad relic of the 1980s into a crime against humanity.

There's only one logical conclusion: My washer is a primitive (but viciously effective) version of the Terminator, sent back in time to destroy the humans. And I must lead the resistance.