Stanisław&Fred: Tartan Armchair

He loved it. He really did. To some, it might have been (and was) an ordinary, even incredibly tasteless armchair. A tartan one. And it wasn't that it didn't fit the decor. Even if all the furniture, carpet, and wallpaper were tartan, it wouldn't have fit.

It's possible that in a shop full of identical armchairs, it wouldn't have fit in.

But Stanisław liked it. It was comfortable to watch TV in. Even if it took up twice as much space as the other pieces, he couldn't throw it away. Because it was comfortable.

And he had practically no problems with it. Until Thursday.

Well, on Thursday, as usual, Stanisław sat down in his terribly tasteless (but oh so devilishly [which, looking back, was and is a good word for it] comfortable) armchair. He turned on the TV, watched Panorama, and went to get Fred.

He tried not to treat him like a prisoner, which is why he let him watch TV and do other such things. And he didn't bring it to Panorama because Fred hated the news... Stanisław suspected that if he lived in a jar and was the only one in the news, it would annoy him too. He didn't know why. Just like that.

"So, Fred, what are we watching?" he asked with feeling (he'd even grown fond of him over the past year).

"I'm not Fred... It's Sergei!" he replied, as usual, then added, "Maybe there's a horror movie?"

"Hmm... something about possession... what do you think?"

And so they watched a horror movie about possession. It was quite good. Although, as usual, it was nonsense... you don't exorcise demons like that, which Stanisław knew perfectly well (he'd already exorcised a few himself), but it worked on the screen.

And then it began.

First, the chair started shaking slightly, then it rose into the air, then it threw Stanisław off.

Then he returned to his seat as if nothing had happened.

"Well, you have a cake, woman," he rose from the ground. "That you also wanted such movies..."

"So it's my fault?! "As you can see, nobody likes you. Not even your armchair."

"Oh, thanks a lot.... I think I'll accidentally lock someone in the basement today...

" "No wonder the armchair's acting like that..." Fred grumbled, then fell silent.

Stanisław thought for a moment... Sure, he'd already cast out a few demons, but from people... and an armchair is something else.

"Maybe it's just some kind of reverse current or something?" he asked.

"I wonder what Physics you got in school... ugh...

" "Sorry, Fred, but I have to do this to be sure..." Fred didn't have time to answer.

Stanisław picked up the jar and placed it on the armchair... It rose again, spun around a few times, and then dropped the jar, which, surprisingly, survived.

"You... You fucker!! If my friends in Siberia found out...

" "You forget you're a talking head, Fred!"

"A sadist... A fucking sadist!"

"We're clearly dealing with a tartan armchair that's been possessed..."

"Right. Then do something about it. This whole possession thing is giving me a headache," said Fred.

Stanisław thought for a moment. Possessing people—no problem. Haunted animals—can be dealt with. Possessed armchairs—he didn't know how the hell to go about it.

"Eureka!" he finally yelled.

He ran out of the room, rummaged through the closet where he kept all his equipment, and returned with a bottle of holy water. He unscrewed the cap and poured it over the backrest. Nothing happened for a moment, then there was a hiss, and a burnt hole was left in the armchair. "

Overrated crap..."

"Did you read the label?" asked Fred.

"'Do not use with armchairs or sofas, it works on chairs,'" Stanisław read aloud. "

Mr. Exorcist have any other equally brilliant ideas?"

"Well...the peg's falling off...well...I guess there's one thing."

Then he carefully dragged the armchair down to the basement and set it against the wall. Upon returning, he said to Fred,

"I wouldn't sit on it anyway with that hole in it," and then went to bed.