Tons, dozens, heaps, lots, piles, scores, slews, wads, gobs, scads.
Oodles are gelatinous and bouncy. They leave glow-in-the-dark hyperbolic trails.
Tons are a sedentary species, who settle into prolonged periods of suspicious staring, shifting their gaze only every 287 oodles of years.
Dozens, endangered by the brutal subjugation of the metric monopolization, once roamed wild, their herds numbering in the tons of tons. Little, now, is known about them, but that they are immaculately polite, and seem to thrive in an environment of freshly baked goods.
Heaps can be found in many shapes and forms, flopped haphazardly onto most surfaces. There are only dozens of recorded instances where heaps have been observed in the state of mid-heaping.
Lots, one of the more popular of the whole heap, are probably the most misused. Humble in the midst of such favoritism, they seem only to want to be much less.
Piles are closely related to Heaps. Like heaps, they seem to grow extemporarily, and with lots of enthusiasm. The avid heap-watcher can distinguish piles from heaps by noting a pile's very slight appearance of structural organization.
Slews, wads, gobs, and scads are roundish, sticky, and typically malformed in some way. They pride themselves on only being around when you don't want them to be. Slews are bigger than wads and gobs; scads are bigger than gobs, but smaller than wads. N.B., Gobs are cool, but secrete some sort of blue goo that tends to attract piles of more gobs.
Scores live in the pockets of english professors' old tweed jackets. They suffer from acute elitism, dislike all form of slews, wads, gobs, and scads, and smell of antiquity. If any one of a score is separated from that score, the score cannot survive.