Gerard The Armchair
My edges are frayed, my legs are weak and there is barely any stuffing in my cushion but this is the happiest I have ever been. There is a party being held in my honour, they don't know that I can feel and am so glad that they appreciate me. I am on a pedestal high above everyone watching them celebrate in my honour.
You see, I have been sitting backstage in this bar for three decades , dozens of musicians some legends some one-hit wonders have sat in me. If anyone knows the rockstar lifestyle it's me. I have never been washed; every single drop of alcohol, blood , heroin and every granule of cocaine are still on me. Ray and Frank -the owners of this bar- believe I am good luck or something hence my less than hygenic state. To be honest I am not surprised they are hosting a party for a chair , they have all kinds of random parties. I have been to a no-cup party, 80s rock band party, Sims party all the random things they do I have been to them all. Frankly I don't think the parties are ever about what they say they're about, I think its just an excuse to drink and do blow on the counter tops. So, I'm not surprised that at a party that is meant to be for me no-one is paying me any attention.
Suddenly I'm being lifted and passed around over the heads of people in the crowds to Ray and Frank who are standing on the bar top. They lift me abovr their heads and the crowd roars in booze and drug induced glee.
"Tonight, marks the ending of an era!" cue more shouting."Gerard here, was the first piece of furniture we bought all those years ago when we first bought this bar. He represemts everything that is rock and roll and as you know tonight is the last night will ever be open. We are moving on to bigger and brighter things so, out with the old and in with new!" Frank shouts. Out with the old? What does that mean? Am i being left behind I thought they cared about me at least on a sentimental level.
I hear a loud buzzing and everyone is cheering again, what is going on? Until they turn me in the sounds direction I can not see the ominous sounding machine , when they do I wish I hadn't seen it at all. A woodchipper is roaring in the corner of the room. Ray and Frank are taking me towards it. I wish I could move, I don't want to die.
They hold me above the opening and the last thing I hear are their cruel shouts before I am being thrown to my death. I feel the blades slice into my body before I am spit out over the crowd in millions of pieces.
