David vs. The Chair

David grabbed his tax booklets, W-2 Forms, and a pencil. He stepped into the living room with a grin. In the corner the chair grinned back.

"Hello Mr. Chair, do you know what time it is?"
"No, what time is it David?"
"Tax time! I'm going to come sit on you and do my taxes, are you ready?"
"No. I mean, wouldn't you rather do taxes at the computer or maybe in the comfort of the bed?"
"Nope, I need to be in this room so Lisa can sleep in bed without disturbance and so I can be comfortable while I think."
"Well, that couch is comfortable, or so I hear. Wouldn't you rather stretch out over there? I mean, you paid more for the couch so you should really get more use of it than me."
"I don't think so Mr. Chair, I'm coming for you - so get ready."

David hopped over and turned on the lamp next to the chair. With an armload of papers, David leapt high in the air. Clearly he intended to plop down into his comfortable chair with enthusiasm. The chair had something different in mind. David suspended there for an instant in mid-air as the discourse returned.

"Ahh, you mean me harm, Man!"
"No, I mean you purpose, here I come Mr. Chair!"

David draped a foot slowly across the breadth of the chair, aiming to straddle the furniture before allowing gravity to bring him plummeting into it.

"You fool! How dare you leave an appendage exposed while my footrest is extended! Come here, Foot!"

David's foot slipped in between the teeth of the footrest, sliding into the gap and entangling his leg. As soon as the grip was just firm enough, gravity gave way and David descended. His body weight put great pressure on the cushions and chair. However this also caused the footrest to collapse inwards to its natural resting position. Time stopped again for an an instant.

"Ha, I trapped you with my moving parts and you moved yourself into position to cause great injury."
"Damn you chair."

With that there was a great pressure exerted upon David's foot. An audible popping noise occured as great pains shot up his leg. Panic set in.

"What have you done chair?!"
"Ha! Welcome to my world of neglect, Man! Jump up now, why don't you! I told you to go reside somewhere else tonight! Your foot is mine forevermore!"

David pulled his reddened appendage from the grip of the chair. His fists clenched the foot, trying to feel for broken bones and trying to hold all the internal pieces of the foot in place should something truly be misaligned. Everything was uncomfortable. David dragged himself away to sulk in bed next to his wife.

For the next day his foot continued to hurt. He walked lop-sided in order to keep the weight of his body off of any fractures, if there were any. The following day was a little better. And so on. There remained a mild, occasional discomfort where the chair had removed some skin and ruffled some nerve endings.

Each day passed with David avoiding the chair. He walked quickly by it without giving it the satisfaction of glimpsing his anger. These were the happiest days the chair had known in months. The furrier and lighter cats made use of the opening and cuddled often with the chair.

However, David chose to reclaim his throne tonight and again make it his own. The chair would never be jumped upon again, for David had learned his lesson. The chair would never allow him to forget its mystical powers and its ability to contort and grapple body parts in directions apart from the intention of their design.

"You know what Mr. Chair?"
"What's that, Man?"
"If you pull that caper again I will just have to cast you into the fire and get myself another chair."

They never spoke again and they never wrestled again either.