A Wee Chair

There was this wee orange chair in the Muirhead doctors and he was fed the fuck up wae being sat on. Thought it would be for a week or so then he’d get moved on tae something better like in a rarely used patio out in the sunshine. But naw. This was going on nine year. Safe tae say he’d had enough.

He was having a wee cry to himself when this big fat sweaty wumen wae the squirts planted her arse on him. Reeking a shite she was. The wee chair jist lost it.

“Get aff me! Awe ay yeez get fucking aff me! I’ve had a fucking nuff. A swear tae fuck a will fucking kill yeez awe!

The big wumen didnae move or even hear anything coz the chair didnae have a mouth. She let out a sneaky wee fart and tutted at the auld man beside her. The chair was pure greeting.

“Somebdy! Embdy! Put me oot ma misery. Please. Please. Please…”

But as we know, he didnae have a mouth so nobody heard him. He remained right where he was fir forty more year before being papped intae a wheelie bin and recycled intae a lavy seat fir a local doss hoose.

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