TerminalX - Master Slack
My chair has been possessed by an evil force as of
late. It's really a nice chair, don't misunderstand me, but it has been acting
up lately. Not your normal acts of unkind malevolence that chairs perform
on unsuspecting victims late night no. No, my chair has become truly evil.
My chair started out as a nice chair. I had stolen the chair in question late one night from the back of a store. If you are missing a chair from the back of your store it isn't my chair, I assure you. And I also assure you that I didn't mess up and steal a chair from the local Witchcraft League or from a friendly cemetery or some other place wherein evil usually resides and would therefore reside in my chair, instead it was just a friendly neighborhood store, the name of which will remain unknown to all but me so I can keep my slightly possessed but altogether comfy chair. Anyway, after a few days of being a nice friendly chair it started to act up, and started to become less of a friendly chair. Not that chairs are naturally friendly folk, they seem to like to be cold and heartless most of the time and don't show emotion too often. But the point is that my friendly chair became unfriendly in a short period of time and became very unfriednly towards me.
Not that unfriendly chairs are bad, because a nice big unfriednly and uncomfortable chair will tend to keep most visitors away and very unfriednly and uncomfortable chairs just seem to vanquish the forces of good on a regular basis and therefore keep unwanted visitors away for long periods, as most people fear being vanquished on the battlefield by inanimate objects like chairs. But when your formerly friendly chair begins to spit blood and to shoot metal objects around the room it's just not a pretty scene. Not that my chair did either of those things but if it did it sure wouldn't have been a pretty scene. No instead my chair simply decided to start dumping me out, forcefully I might add, at inopportune times. Not the normal inopportune time like when you are just learning to juggle a Volkswagen load of happy clowns from the circus and don't want to drop it, or when you have a large carnivorous mammal, like a bear say, in your lap and don't want to upset it. No instead my chair dumps me out at the time when it is the absolute worst. For example I was watching television the other night and began to drool and list to the side. Just as I was about to fall asleep in my formerly friendly chair it up and dumped me out. No warning at all, not even a casual disembodied scream coming from some unseen orifice on the chair, instead I suddenly awake as my face is unceremoniously driven in the ground. I jumped up in hopes that some brainless boob would be standing there waiting for the beating of his life, and instead realized I was simply standing in the fruits of my drooling, which I suspect had been caused by the chairs relentless beating of my head.
Push the needle in, feel it break your skin.. What's the drug this time, Rosary Beads, TV or Heroine.. Walk through life zombified by the flashing lights of commercialism wondering why you haven't had your fifteen minutes yet.. Staring into the monitor at two a.m. through cigarette smoke at the mindless rantings of a mindless populace.. Haven't any of us figured it out yet.. lashing out at a society that birthed you in apathy and nutured you on conformity.. Automatic weapons only prove to us that we were in fact right the whole time we figured you for an asshole.. You've gone through a pack and a half and haven't even taken a drag yet.. Bright light hurts your eyes like a jagged piece of metal being shoved into your stomach.. your dreams lie unfullfilled in the bottom of your sock drawer.. everything in a matching array oendless fabrics presented to you at 20% off.. video games are a great waste of resources and time, fun none-the-less.. you blinked four times since reading this.. the cigarettes burn themselves out in the ashtray and you go on through the cerimony of lighting another and taking a swig of soda from the can.. this shit would be more amusing if you could get laid more often I bet..
I was worried now, because I was just mindlessly
beat and dumped by my chair, and while I was sleeping no less! After losing
a nights woeth of sleep thinking about the subject, I failed to go to work
and woke up soon after I had to be to work the day after that. I called my
boss to say I would not be in that day, for my chair was possessed and was
keeping me in the house, as it had just moved itself in front of the door.
I was promptly fired. At this time I asked my boss exactly what kind of chair
he had. My boss described his chair, a green cloth number with wood paneling
and a swiveling base. I asked my former boss if I could talk to the chair
and he recommended that maybe I should talk to that doctor, and hung up. Always
one to follow my boss' advice I called the doctor and asked why my chair had
been possessed. The doctor's secretary politely asked me to stop calling her,
referring to me as Murray, and promptly hung up. Seeing that my chair was
also controlling the phone lines I began to devise a plan of destroying it.
My plan was stupidly simple in its complexity and yet at the same time so effective in it's workings. I would simply have to burn my house down and the chair with it. Starting with a small bonfire, to which I invited the local Druid cult (who always have invited me to their bonfires), I slowly began to burn the chair. Within five minutes of starting my living room on fire the entire house was ablaze, much to the wonderment of all those inside. The Druid cult began to worry at this time, because there were massive pieces of my neighbors living room craching into mine (Did I neglect to mention I live in an apartment?, well I do). After one of the Druids was crushed by my neighbors giant stone Olmec head, it was agreed upon to leave in a timely fashion. After arriving outside, I watched in glee as my house and all the contents of it burned. Although I was horrified a minute later when one of the Druids walked up to me and presented me with the chair, saying that it didn't look like I wanted to lose it in the fire. I immediately grabbed the chair and began to beat the Druid about the head and continued to do so until the fire department arrvied, carted off the Druid, put out the remains of my house (or apartment, I never could just say I live in an apartment, it makes me sounds as if I have people living above and below me, which I do, so I really so no problem in referring to my house as just that, an apartment) and locked me in a small cage.
going out to a club to fullfill an arcane macho need to see how much you can drink before kissing the pavement.. rock and roll isn't dead, it's incorporated and repackaged.. you'd go to the store to get more soda but that phone call was to let you know that it's on for the meeting at the diner.. don't lie, you really are interested in following that firetruck just to see if anyone died.. movies aren't responsible for violence desensitation, the six o'clock news is.. now that you've got this great idea for a book, who do you call.. just a simple reminder that you don't know anyone and you are at the bottom of the social food chain.. coffee and cigarrettes sound better anyway.. sleep deprivation is more fun that it looks and smells.. you'll actualyl smoke some this way at least.. why get angry at the police for pulling you over, you're the one speeding moron.. just because their economy can't produce a million records that sound the same doesn't mean they're less of a country.. get over yourself, I'm in charge anyways.. none of us have anything meaningful to say to each other, not even me.. life is a series of connected events that appear random if taken out of context, don't forget that.. ranch dressing really does go with everything..
Soon after eating the colorful bird in th
cage and screaming until all my neighbors threw my cage out of a high flying
airplane, with me inside of course, I realized the chair was following me,
yet again. However this time I realized that the evil tree spirits or wood
dwarves or whatever embodiment of evil was residing in the chair and probably
in the wooden leg of the long-dead sailor that the vietnamese chair-smith
hade made my chair out of were going to die (or at least as close to dying
as most evil tree spirits and/or slightly intoxicated pine fairy dwarves get)
along with me as I hit the ground.
However in a strange twist of fate, me evil chair broke my fall as I hit the ground. Although because I hit the chair at upwards of the speed of sound, the chair and I burst into flames, and I got some nasty paper cuts from a pile of rubbish on the ground.
However (once again) I survived and my chair didn't. Although I am now confined to a wheel chair and have to be bathed daily by my Slavic nursemaid Betsy, who hasn't showered since before the Societ occupation. But I am happy I'm alive and my chair isn't.
The moral of the stort is: Don't buy chairs that were built by vietnamese chair-smiths out of the former wooden legs of long-dead sailors that are now possessed by alcoholic fairy-eating tree dwarves (the leg, not the Vietnamese chair-smith) or you'll burn your house down, eat your neighbors, start hanging out with Druids, buy stock in a Pog company, and then be bather daily by Betsy the Slavic nursemaid to the wonderful off-key tune of "Light my fire" sung in Prussian with words translated from German to Turkish and back.