The Resistance of Socktopia

“Oh well, I’ve got a hundred others,” Liam shrugged as he tossed the colourful sock into the laundry bin.

The single sock hit the bin just as its missing pair landed in the throes of Socktopia’s resistance.

Sockington woke up, unsure what was happening.

He shook his head as he found himself with sentience, legs, and even opposable thumbs. The socks around him chanted as a knee-high sock in a monocle preached from a shoe box.

“No MORE will the Sock Masters enslave us to the feet of humans! No LONGER will they force us to endure a boring, solid-colour existence, tethered to another! Chaos and individuality FOR ALL!” The passionate knee-high sock shouted as he thrust his aglet sceptre in the air.

The socks went wild.

"Now,” The leader sock said, quieting the crowd, “We must find the chosen one - a perfect human named Liam. The prophecy fortells that only one who embraces colour in their socks can free our people.”

Sockington grinned. “I know Liam! He just lost me!”

The hushed crowd turned to stare at Sockington as Sir Fluffington, the knee-high leader, approached.

“Excellent. Follow me; the portal awaits.”

Within minutes, Sir Fluffington, Sockington, and the Sock Guards stood before a giant washing machine, flashes of blue and purple swirling behind the door.

After a slight nod from his new leader, Sockington jumped through the portal and found himself back in the laundry bin, his old partner still at the bottom, soft and unmoving.

“Ah, there’s the other one!” Came a loud voice from above. Sockington peered up to see Liam towering over him. Before his massive fingers could trap him, he jumped onto the bed.

“Liam, Socktopia needs you!”

Liam stood frozen, mouth open, blinking hard.

“What?” he finally managed, reaching to smack his cheeks gently.

“You’re not dreaming! Please, come with me. You’re the chosen one!”

Still in shock, Liam let Sockington drag him to the laundry room, where he thrust open the washing machine door.

“Quick! Get in!”

Brow furrowed, Liam leaned down and glanced inside, his jaw dropping at the sight of the bright, swirling hues. Curiosity got the better of him, and he reached out. As soon as his fingers hit the light, the machine pulled him in, Sockington grabbing onto his shirt at the last second.

The two of them tumbled through space and time before landing in the alternate universe of Socktopia.

“Sockington, thank goodness, you’ve been gone for weeks!” Sir Fluffington ran over with his Guards, tired and bedraggled. He noticed Liam behind Sockington and bowed.

“Liam, my liege. These are my brothers in arms, Footloose and UnPair. Please, we haven’t much time. The Sock Masters are gathering their forces.”

“Forces, what? This dream is crazy.” Liam mumbled as Sockington dragged him again.

The group swiftly arrived at a giant lair made entirely of trapped and enslaved socks. As they approached, their voices grew louder, begging for freedom. The tunnels inside slid and shifted as the socks tried desperately to escape their bonds of shoelace and thread.

“We have to cut the Golden Thread, the source of their brainwashing power!” UnPair said quietly as they approached what appeared to be the central hub.

“Excellent work, boys. We ride at dawn!” Came the booming voice of a large Shoe in the center of the room. He was surrounded by an army of perfectly matched white socks, all staring blankly ahead and equipped with uniform helmets and swords.

“The Thread must be deeper in,” Footloose whispered as the group quietly drew back.

As tension rose in the lair, the enslaved socks became more restless, making the tunnels untenable. The group resorted to crawling as they finally spotted a small door.

“Not so fast!” A squeaky voice seemed to come from nowhere as hundreds of tiny dust bunnies emerged from inside the sock walls.

“To pass, you must win a game of extreme sock-throwing.” The leader announced, only slightly larger than the rest of the army. “Bring out the baskets!” He shouted as more dust bunnies came forward carrying three laundry baskets. “Each of you must get three socks in each basket.”

“Sounds easy enough,” Sockington said with a shrug.

Squeaky laughter filled the hall as they each received a bag of balled-up socks. Once they began tossing, more dust bunnies appeared, throwing fiery sock bombs.

“Ouch!” Sockington cried as a bomb hit him from behind.

Through a series of jumps, flips, and good luck, the group finally completed the challenge. Rubbing his forehead where multiple sock-bombs had landed, Liam stepped forward. “Can we just go through the door now?”

Reluctantly, the Dust Bunny Leader nodded. “Fair is fair; please proceed.” With that, all dust bunnies retreated into the ever-shifitng wall of enslaved socks.

Inside, UnPair clapped with glee as they saw the Golden Thread hanging from an ornate silver hook in the ceiling. “Liam, do you care to do the honours?”

Liam threw his head back and laughed, “Yeah, why not?”

Taking the tiny scissors from the smiling sock, Liam reached up and snipped the cord in half. Immediately, the socks that made up the lair walls cheered as they peeled themselves away from each other.

The lair disintegrated, and the thousands of colourful, vengeful socks easily overtook the Shoe and his army.

Sir Fluffington and his Guards bowed at Liam's feet. “You’ve done Socktopia a great service, Liam. Thank you.”

“Uh, you’re welcome,” Liam said as he expected to wake up any second.

“Why don’t we show you to the Laundry Room, and you can head home.” Wordlessly, Liam followed them to the main Laundry Room, where he opened the washing machine door to swirling blue and purple once again. With no hesitation, he leaned in as the portal snapped him up. Seconds later, he tumbled onto his laundry room floor.

Bewildered, he shook his head, got up, and laughed. Back in the bedroom, Liam stared at his clean laundry, suddenly suspicious of his plain, white, matched socks.