Directly taken from a not-so reputable website located on the world wide web, “perhaps the most versatile and fascinating object in the known universe is the prehistoric chair. From a block of stone to a throne, the chair is well-known for its use whilst during an interrogation. A more obvious functionality is sitting. Resting on a chair, however, is boring. Almost as dull and mundane as watching paint dry. There are individuals who tend to use chairs as weapons; others creatively assemble blanket and pillow forts. A small sect of individuals are additionally afraid of chairs. Known as ‘seatophobia’, the irrational fear of chairs, few cases have been reported.”

This quote is, however, from a site that most teachers and educational institutions would call ‘not-so reputable’. If you were to submit a scientific paper with this certain website as a source, you would be considered a fool. Maybe not a complete fool, but an incompetent one. There are no boundaries to the insults the scientific community can conjure up, brutal would probably cut it half way.

The Earth had moved 200,000 kilometers before Jack woke up. Around two hours worth of orbiting the sun. Thankfully, the Earth managed to stay in the orbit of the sun.

Jack lived in Iceland for one reason: he owned a bunker there. Hiding from chairs, he lived in a Cold War bunker he stumbled upon one day during his travels.

Jack was a lumberjack back home. He entered the cabin and there it was. The chair was not tucked neatly into the table, but instead down on the ground. Down for the count, as it appeared. He jumped! Nobody was supposed to be inside his home. It was his, not the bear’s. Jack, like the cynical man he is, threw a nearby chair, one that was neatly tucked in, at the incarnation of satan. He then ran out of the house screaming, “ghost men, ghost!” Nobody heard him, he was in a forest.

Inside the bunker were no chairs, as they were ‘evil’, but instead the welcoming scent of nachos. With dip. And a table with a couch pulled up next to it. The point of the couch was to sit in front of the table and to fill up the 200 square meters of his bunker.

“Bunkers are curious contraptions created for the sole purpose of hiding. Most likely hiding from bombs and missiles… and long-range-thermo-nuclear-warheads. They are generally empty and always look like a box from the inside. From the outside, you’d probably see dirt. This is because bunkers are generally underground. Those that are above ground are pointless and should be dug a hole to be put underground.”

A ladder hung down from the airlock entrance at the surface. Ten feet down from the lock was the table and two feet to the right of that was the couch. The air was musty and the walls looked and felt like concrete. Jack was alone in a hole 50 kilometers from the nearest volcano. The nearest town was a two-hour-long plane ride away.

Adjacent from the table was another table that had a computer. One of those com-pu-tat-ion-al laptops from that fruit company. On top of the laptop was an apple that  Jack had taken a bite of several hours ago.

The reason for there being a laptop in his bunker home was because Jack had won a lawsuit against a certain fruit company several years before. He brought that company down to its knees and gave it quite a slashing with his legal mumbo-jumbo. Of course, he hadn’t won a single case since he moved away to Iceland.

The point of the airlock guarding the bunker was to make sure that he would have enough air to survive even if the chairs started to eat all the air on earth. The chance of that was quite slim, but it being ‘slim’ meant that it was still possible.

Jack had a distinct look on his face. A disgusted look of terror and most likely a glimpse of anxiety in there as well. A chair had snuck past the airlock and into his bunker. Jack recalled the side-note to the chair article.

“As a side-note, chairs are very sneaky. You might wake up one day to find that your chair was not tucked in even though you thought you tucked it into its desk the night before. The cooler side to this is that a sibling may have sat down in your chair and used your computer to play that new-fangled game. Your sibling may have had fun, but you’ll never know.”

If you’ve ever seen a movie that just blows your brains out, you’d probably be dead. But if you saw something that made you think that, you’d know how Jack reacted. He froze. In shock, mostly. Just like that, his muscles contracted and he cringed. Seeing as he had just relocated his entire life to Iceland, which actually isn’t too icy, Jack started to scream in his head.

When you scream in your head, that is the one moment in which you don’t actually think about anything. You mind just goes blank for a moment, probably forgetting what you were screaming about in the first place. And that’s exactly what happened.

He fell over, hit his head, and then passed out.

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’?”


(This is an old story of mine, just reedited for the blog. If you did read all of that and enjoyed it, hurray! Thanks, then.)