There is a certain place that I like to sit. And even more importantly, there is a certain thing I like to sit on. My chair. MY chair. And a short while ago, it was stolen from me! Oh, vile wretched merchants of suffering, why have you visited upon me such sorrows! What mortal deed could I have possibly committed to be so deserving! Fate, fate, oh, bitter fate, how thee strikest at me! How thee ever seekest to vanquish me, to dash me upon the rocks of unhappiness! To take from me all earthly joys!
Nay, said I, nay, a thousand times! I shall not lie down upon the cold stone slab of destiny and accept my fate in so meek a fashion as this! Rise up! Rise up, and fight! Rally under the banner of truth! Justice! And freeeeeeeeeeeeeedoooooooooooom!
So, I went and took my chair back. There was yelling. There was even some muted violence. But I feel satisfied with a job well done. And as far as I’m concerned, this isn’t just regaining stolen property. No, this is liberation. This is like the Iraq War. This is when we took out Saddam Hussein, except this time, the locals were glad to see us. As far as I’m concerned, I’m a hero.
And a comfortably seated one too, now.
