It took him much too long to realize that his new tufted-back chairs were eating his other pieces of furniture. In fact, it was not until the girl he, like, was totally in love with said to him one morning, K, your dresser looks sad, that he realized the ordinariness of his world was creeping toward impasse.

Or whatever.

She was right, the girl he, like, was totally in love with: his dresser did look sad. An inquisitive sort, she pried further: Why did you get such a sad dresser? She figured it was some sort of high intellectual thing to surround oneself with negative affect–K being a high intellectual and all. The truth was that K’s dresser was less sad than afraid–fearful that today would be the day that K’s new tufted-back chairs would decide to eat him. K hadn’t really noticed that his furniture was slowly disappearing: he was in love and when one is in love, one doesn’t really notice things.

But there is one thing K will notice: tomorrow his tufted-back chairs will decide to go after the girl he, like, is totally in love with. He’ll notice, too, tears falling from his dresser’s eyes.