Socks are the most amazing article of clothing. They hate their lives; they're in the shoes with stinky feet, the boring drawers. The dryer is their only chance to escape an' they all know it. They do escape from the dryer--they plan it in the hamper, the night before. "Tomorrow, the dryer, I'm gettin' out!"
"You wait here."
The dryer door swings open, the sock is waiting up against the side wall. [Flat against the wall, looking left and right, cautious.] He hopes you don't see him, an' he goes down the road [hums a jaunty tune] They get buttons sewn on their face--join a puppet show.