A blanket could be used as Concealment Revealer. It both conceals and reveals, like great dialogue. Here’s some great dialogue I wrote for two characters, Mr. Brick, and Ms. Blanket:
Mr. Brick: I like your dress
Ms. Blanket: I’m naked, you moron
Mr. Brick: Tuesdays make me vomit. What are you doing one minute after Monday at 11:59 PM?

A blanket could be used like Lenny McDenny says hello. He never says hi, because he only says goodbye. He’s always leaving and never arriving. I’m like that too, except I’m always arriving and never leaving. I also eat all the food in your fridge, and never leave when you ask me to. Why would I leave? Good food, good friends, and good food. 


A brick could be used in the same manner as a magician’s hat could be used as a basketball. I’m not suggesting a brick replace a basketball, because that’d be silly. But not as silly as the idea of paying people millions of dollars to put a rubber ball in a rim, while engineers, inventors, teachers, you know, productive people, limp along financially.


Blanket could be used to form a new word—tenkalb—which in turn could be used, or not used at all. But that’s not so bad, because many words aren’t used at all. Like the word drimorious, for example, which means “An honest politician.” Actually, not only does the word “drimorious” not exist, but neither does an honest politician. 


A brick is what the aliens gave me to communicate with them. It’s easy to operate. Just go to a party, or any crowded location, place the brick on your head, and stand perfectly still until they open up lines of communication. If you talk to Egbok Wangor, tell him I want the twenty bucks he owes me—and I’ll even give you a twenty percent collector’s fee.


A blanket could be used to keep me single. Not that I need any help from anybody or anything to stay single. Actually, to stay single, I need the full cooperation of the entire female population, which is kind of impressive, because in conclusively and inclusively agreeing not to date me, it's like the first time in human history a collective has ever fully agreed on something. 


A brick and a blanket can be used as reasons to go on searching, when you’ve found all the obvious applications for the brick and the blanket—and immediately discarded them—but you lost the motivation to keep thinking, and you’ve lost hope that you will discover any new uses for them. Thus the brick and the blanket become symbols for creativity and perseverance. 


A brick could be used as a hammer. A brick could be both a tool and a building material in the construction of a mansion. That’s like having an engineer design secret tunnels in your palace, and then burying him in the foundation’s cement, to strengthen the integrity of the structure, and also ensure his integrity on the matter of secrecy by burying the secrets to the fortress along with his corpse. 


A blanket could be used as a water purification device. Place it between a flowing water source and your storage barrel and let the blanket filter out impurities. Then after your water is pure, drop a brick in the barrel, and let the water molecules take on a brick-like structure. Drinking this water is a great way to build up your body’s defenses—especially from invading Mongol hordes from the north. 


A brick could be used as a doorstop. But that’s obvious. What isn’t obvious is why somebody would want to stop a door, since doors represent openness. What is that person hiding behind that door that they want to stop people from opening it up? I don’t know, but it’s got to be diabolical, and if anything is to be stopped, it’s not the door—it’s the evil plan by the Door Master to take over the world.


If a blanket could be used to keep one person warm, then it stands to reason that all the blankets in the world are to blame for global warming, and I think our political leaders, with all their wisdom, should confiscate all blankets and burn them. The cure for Global Warming is to start a massive bonfire, and while the earth will surely get warmer in the short term, in the end we’ll all be like Keynes’ corpse anyway, so what’s it really matter?


A brick could be used to help you to become a karate master, like I am. It’s easy to punch the brick and break it, but can you punch a brick, shatter it, and then using only your mind repiece the brick back together into one cohesive unit—and do it all faster than the shutter of the fastest camera can witness? Well, I can. You’ll have to see it to believe it, but since the human eye can’t actually visually absorb it, you’ll have to just take my word for it. 


A brick and a blanket walk into a bar, and the bartender turns and says, “What can I get you started with?” Before they could reply, a Finnish guy said, “I’ll take a brick in a blanket, hold the ice.” What the bartender started, the Finnish guy finished, and the brick and the blanket thought they’d better to drink elsewhere.
* A brick in a blanket: very simple—1/6th of a Twizzler dropped in a glass of vodka, with a blanket of Grenadine on top.


A brick could be used to stop a train. But I’ve got a better way to stop a speeding train. Stand firmly on the tracks, stare down the oncoming train, and boldly whisper, “Stop” as you hold out a stiff arm and just stand there. It might feel like you’re waiting your whole life for that train to stop, and quite possibly you will wait your whole life for that train to stop. But from that point your life expectancy has decreased to just a few seconds, so you won’t be waiting very long at all. 


A brick is a duplicate. It is a physical copy of the idea for a brick. And what’s the big idea? A brick represents unity, a notion of hey, let’s build something together. Like a house, for example. And after you help me build my house, I’ll use a leftover brick and smash you over the skull so that not only will I not have to pay you for your labor, but I won’t have to pay the butcher for meat, because with your sturdy body, I’m sure I’ll have enough food to feed my family for a year.