Mobus Angrili (part 3)

Chairs (of which one needs repair) of a sidewa...

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An old story of mine, just reedited. Hopefully enjoyable.

Part 1! – Part 2! Part 3!

Waking up after the Earth had once again cycled through one one-millionth of its solar cycle, Jack slowly opened his eyes. And–oh look! It was the chair.

He screamed again, but this time out loud. He then attempted to kick down the chair, but pulled back as he couldn’t bear to be within ten feet of that monstrosity.

Over the next day or two, Jack wasn’t exactly sure what was happening. What he didn’t know is that he had been unconscious every minute and awake for half of the next. When he was a awake, he screamed, quickly lifted his head up, and then promptly hit his head on a pipe hanging right above him.

This process continued until Jack decided to roll out of the situation. Literally. He wasn’t sure why, but it was most likely due to the bumps on his head which really started to hurt.

At this point, Jack, front the neck down, looked as he did on any average day–with a rusty-brown coat and some trousers. Engraved on the coat was ‘Icelandic Coat Factory’, but that was just the manufacturer. Given the choice, Jack would rather have ‘Chair Killer’ or ‘Stool Stealer’. It would’ve given him such a great conversation starter. Perhaps it’d scare off a chair or two too.

On his head were several dozen bruises. All of them were from the pipe. Now, why there was a pipe right above Jack’s head. It is quite an unfortunate and inconvenient situation to be in. Maybe if he had a helmet on, he’d be there forever.

The chair had yet to move. It just sat there… like a chair. Jack wasn’t sure how it got there, he was absolutely certain that he didn’t own it. He suddenly wished that he had a long stick or something to poke the chair. Looking at the pipe with devious intentions, he pulled. It wouldn’t budge! What a terribly inconvenient time for a stuck pipe. Well, there goes that idea.

Still hiding in the corner of the bunker, Jack ran to the ladder, climbed it, and then sat down next to the entrance. He was currently on the ground. He lied down for a few minutes with his eyes closed trying to figure out what he should do with the chair.

Then he got up and looked around at the beautiful landscape. There were trees, mountains, lakes, rivers, dewy grass, a few weeds here and there, and an army’s worth a chairs. Oh snap!

If Jack was on a football field equivalent to the Icelandic landscape, he would be a tiny dot. A minuscule dot. And if you were looking at that dot from an aerial probe, you wouldn’t be able to see the football field around him. You would see a tiny patch of grass around that dot and what would look like a solid mass of orange everywhere around him. There were lines of chairs so long that he couldn’t see the end. Instead, he saw what seemed to be an optical illusion!

Big and tall, they were all bright orange and glowed like fire in the sun. Jack’s jaw looked like it would snap off as he rubbed his eyes. It really looked like an angry mob of chairs.

“Angry mobs, also known as mobus angrili, are the pinnacle of collaboration. They are very angry, hence the name, and are quite easilyangered. They’re angry. If you are to find a ‘stationary-blockade’ angry mob, you are sadly out of luck.”

And then the queen chair suddenly fell from the sky. It was colossal and probably demolished a few chairs in the landing. Jack fell to the ground on his knees. His mouth was gaping. It was as if he were seeing the end of the world, as if he was seeing a supernova charging towards the earth. He was definitely out of luck. It was like being left behind while all your friends get to go on that awesome trip to the amusement park.

Jack woke up in a daze and looked like he was going to throw up. He was queasy and uneasy. He was in his comfy Brooklyn home. He was sitting in his recliner and reading an article on a website that’s name started with ‘W’. He didn’t bother to consider its importance. “Hmm,” he thought to himself. “Was I just reading about ‘seatophobia’?”

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