As you may know, my name is Generic Chair. I am the satire editor for this school’s newspaper. Did you ever wonder how I became a satire editor? No? Too bad, I’m going to tell you a cliche story outlining the tale. I’d just like to de-throne the notion that I do this thing for the money.

Back in my day, when satire was almost frowned upon, no one wanted to listen to my comedic personality, except a guy they called the invisible man that can’t be heard and has no form. The invisible man that can’t be heard and has no form was a big fan (no, not a fan that circulates air), and was always laughing at my jokes and satirical commentary. When the invisible man who can’t be heard and has no form first asked me to write a satire about nothing in particular, I asked him if he realized I was a chair that had no hands or arms, then he asked me If I realized that I was an inanimate object that was somehow able talk, have thoughts, and move on my own accord, at which point I decided that it would be better to not question what made logical sense, for fear of becoming unjustifiable of my own accord. The invisible man’s request, however, soon lead me on a journey of writing and silliness that I could never have imagined. I wrote stories for recognizable faces such as Generic Throne, whom was the king of Generic Upholsterainia, The Chair York Times, and that one famous guy you’ve never heard of. It was fun. Of course, I contracted stool pox soon thereafter, and had to cryogenically freeze myself in order to survive until a cure was found. However, when I came back to the place I knew I’d find The invisible man that can’t be heard and has no form, he was gone, brutally murdered by the Invisible axe Murderer who can’t be heard and has no form. I knew, at that point, that I had to continue to write satire, to honor the invisible man who can’t be heard and has no form.

So, that, in a Chairshell, is why I do this. It’s for the invisible man that no one could hear of feel dying by another invisible man that no one could hear or feel killing another invisible man who can’t be heard or felt with his axe. Also so that I don’t begin to question the logic of my existence as a chair that can write and speak. That would be problematic.