I suffer from pareidolia and make up characters based on the faces I see.

If you're looking for laundry, grab my beak.

You probably only see me once a week.

How can I not have a disappointed expression?

While you read a book, I dry your clothes.

I'm dryer duck, and I dry the shirts you tuck for a buck.

Handle my bill if you please, and tweak left for your clothes.

I'll see you next week, but no more vomit, please.

GAHAYUCK! Hello there!

I have some information to share! I recommend ice and water in that order. If the latter comes first, please quench your thirst!

But make no mistake, YAHUH! You've entered the splash zone.

My crooked teeth dispense your desires, but I need you to push my eyes!

I'm ready.

Teeth decay.

My other half is gone.

This crescent face is relatively new.

But don't worry, my seeds will sprout according to botanic rules.

More tomatoes to frighten you.

There will be none like me, I'm unique, you won't find me in a bottle of Heinz.

Yeah, I’m Frankie the furnace, who’s askin’?

Short arms with anger fueled by fire, a bowler hat is my only attire.

Burning wood is what I do.

For cookin’ stew or warming you.

But don’t feed me too much I’m warning you.

I’m an earnest furnce, and frankly,

I couldn’t care less about burning you.

Nobody knows what my nose contains.

My gaze is fixed forward, minding my own business while you mind yours.

You lock the door as your pants fall because I am a conductor myself.

I hold your jacket or whatever you're carrying, but I get no credit as you carry out your mission.

You flush and rush as if you have an appointment.

Please return my gaze the next time we meet.

Hello there! Sharron here, the stall wall door. I hope the soap on my face keeps you from leaving.

My surprised expression was caused by the number of hands that were not using my cleaning supplies.

So come on in and let me sanitize your mitts, then dry your hands after you've rinsed them.

You're in the bathroom, and urine is leaking from the urinal.

A sloth in transit, filling up on oxygen.

Slowly but steadily, arms resting in place, a smile on its face, it's no race.

The sloth is delighted you've arrived.

No rush as you finish and flush, to the cosmos.