You and Casey rummage through the clothes, looking for something nice to wear. As you lift up a shirt, it wraps around your arm. You look over at Casey, who is struggling to untangle a tie that’s wrapped itself tightly around Casey’s neck.
The shirt you’re holding flings itself over your face. You can feel the rest of the clothes snake their way to cover you. The air is getting more and more difficult to breath as you are being smothered to death under piles and piles of dirty laundry.
You are dead.