When I sat on it exerting my full weight; it squealed inaudibly permeating the

stillness of atmosphere with feverish cacophony, 

Nimbly revolving a few centimeters on the polished floor; eventually adjusting

disconcertingly to the situation.

 

When I poked it with a conglomerate of pointed needles; it let out silent gasps, 

The upholstery was now embedded with a plethora of incongruous holes; although

I could still spread my legs on it and sit.

 

When I emptied a barrel of fuming acid on it; it got severely butchered and uncouthly ripped apart, 

The spongy foam now buckled under the slightest of my caress; and people who

visited my cabin perceived it as a minor bomb blast.

 

When I tried standing erect on it swirling rampantly to blaring tunes diffusing from the CD systems; it initially complied with my desire, 

Although after a while I found myself adhering to the opposite wall of the room; as it had inevitably skidded and flung me like a discarded heap.

 

When I incorrigibly refrained to clean it; letting hordes of dust settle on its persona, 

I had to suffer unrelentingly from sporadic bouts of thunderous coughing; with

the minuscule particles entering my nose.

 

When I washed it with freezing water in winter castigating for disobeying my

command; it appeared forlorn and meek in the beginning, 

However when the next day I entered my office; there was a derogatory odor

intensely hovering in the air; also I saw a fleet of termite gnawing the soft wood with overwhelming relish.

 

When I endeavored to emboss script on its body; it incessantly rotated and shook; bouncing with gay abundance on its springs, 

Driving me wild beyond the threshold of definable frustration; and I finally gave up on my persevering effort.

 

When I kicked it in its rear; exerting tumultuous force with my bohemian feet, 

It placidly lay down topsy-turvy several paces further; and I had scrupulously

make sure whether all parts were intact; before relaxing on it again.

 

When I tried incinerating it; submerging it wholesomely in my left over alcohol; it caught flames which rose high and handsome towards the sky, 

All that was now left of it was charred ashes; which I consummately used to

sprinkle as manure over my plants.

But let me tell you folks; I had enjoyed it the most; supremely relished its

company for marathon hours on the trot, 

When I swung it tenaciously to and fro; with my feet languidly sprawled on the table; my eyes partially closed; and my rocking chair virtually putting my into a mystical slumber.