Evil Chair: “For Those Whom You Despise”

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Jaime doesn’t know what to do.

“I don’t know what to do!” he exclaims.

He goes to the treadmill. He begins to walk faster and faster. He begins to run. He runs too fast, and his treadmill buckles, and Jaime goes flying through the wall and out to sea.

“La la la,” Jaime says defiantly. He grabs a piece of floating treadmill track. Then he passes out.

In the end, as he always does, he finds himself at the Island of Evil Chair.

This is the island of Evil Chair!
If you like the furniture you see here
You can buy it at Tortoise Market Square!

Cessie the Seasonal Bargain Item walks along the shore. She sings her song to herself:

Here is a seasonal bargain item
If your checkbook’s got problems
Then Cessie’ll right ’em
She’s sharp and affordable, pretty and round—

She stops short. “Oh, my,” she says. “It’s Jaime! He’s washed up on the beach again!”

Jaime flops on the beach. He is laying on his side. Blood is trickling from his forehead. He burbles and coughs and spits out water.

“Are you all right?”

Jaime sits up. He processes the situation. “I’ll be fine,” he says. “I’m just seeing double and I can’t seem to get away from the Island of Evil Chair. But why are you wandering the beach, Cessie?”

“Because I’m available for ten easy payments of $19.99,” says Cessie.

Jaime looks at her.

Cessie sighs. “And everyone else is up on the cliff with Evil Chair,” she says. “I can’t go up there because I’m afraid of heights.”

Jaime stands up. He shelters his eyes with one hand. He looks up the high cliff. Evil Chair looks down at him with brooding countenance. Sure enough, all the good furniture of the island is clustered around Evil Chair.

“We decided to show him what for,” says Cessie.

“What for?”

“Exactly.”

Jaime begins to climb the cliff. As he approaches the top he can hear the furniture singing.

This is the White Lacquer Four-Post Bed
Bumpin’ Evil Chair
With a post to the head!
I’m elegant, lean, supple, and spare
And I don’t go together with an Evil Chair!

Jaime frowns.

This is the Roll-Open Child’s Desk
Bumpin’ Evil Chair
‘Cause he’s grotesque
I can hold pens, pencils, papers and toys—
I’m good for a girl and I’m good for a boy.
Buy me to show your child you care!
But I don’t go together with an Evil Chair!

Jaime’s frown deepens.

This is the Vengeful Ottoman
Bumpin’ Evil Chair
To prove that I can—

Anguished, Jaime cries out, “What kind of a promotional event is this?”

There’s a silence and a wind.

Jaime reaches the top.

“What’s going on?” he asks, mildly.

The furniture shuffles uncertainly.

“They’re bumping me,” says Evil Chair. “They’re gathered around me, bumping me. Because it’s not assault if you just bump.”

“Ah,” says Jaime.

“He’s evil,” protests Rollo, the Roll-Open Child’s Desk.

“That’s true,” agrees Jaime. “He is evil, filthy, disgusting, and awful.”

“So we bump him!” shouts Rollo.

“Yes!” cries all the other furniture, wriggling and bouncing. “Bump him!”

“Wait,” says Jaime.

The furniture stills.

Jaime asks: “What have you done today for those whom you despise?”

There is a long silence.

“Bumped ’em?” offers Rollo.

There is another long silence.

The voice of the White Lacquer Four-Post Bed is reedy and strange. “I admire the Evil Chair’s cushions.”

“Excellent,” whispers Evil Chair.

Rollo shifts uncomfortably. “I could give the Evil Chair part of my deep discount. Then someone might buy him. Furniture likes when people buy it.”

Crickets chirp.

“… I could give you a cricket,” says the Vengeful Ottoman.

“Excellent! Oh, yes,” says Evil Chair. “Yes!”

Jaime watches the Evil Chair thoughtfully.

“They show me mercy,” says Evil Chair. “But I will show them none! When they have given all they can give, then I shall make them mine! I! Their dark overlord! Their terror! Their living nightmare!”

Mildly, Jaime says, “And what have you done today, Evil Chair, for those whom you despise?”

“I will show them my dark power and my terrible righteousness!”

Evil Chair cannot help himself. He cries, “Sing it with me, my disciples! Sing it with me, to prove your compassion!”

Thunder booms.

Evil Chair sings:

This is the song of Evil Chair—

Hesitant, then with full voice, the other furniture chimes in,

Bad decor should be everywhere!

Evil Chair sings:

Your eye for taste
Tells you to run
But Evil Chair Decor says, “This room is fun!”
This is the song of Evil Chair!

The furniture sings, triumphantly:

Bad decor should be everywhere!

“I’m so happy,” sniffs Evil Chair.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Jaime says.

Jaime picks up Evil Chair. He grunts. He strains. Then he throws Evil Chair off the cliff. Evil Chair rolls across the beach and into the sea.

//Tip of the day: being good is hard work. It’s not about punishing evil and it’s not about being evil’s doormat.

Unless, of course, you’re a Grass-Texture Doormat, available at Tortoise Market Square!//

“Now I’m wet,” sulks Evil Chair.

The tide pulls him away.

“This isn’t over!” cries Evil Chair. “You and I, Jaime! Locked in combat! We will always be drawn back to … THE ISLAND OF EVIL CHAIR!”

This was the island of Evil Chair!
If you liked the furniture you saw here
You can buy it at Tortoise Market Square!

5050 Swan Lake Drive, in Kenmore.

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Categories: Hitherby, Legends, On Morality