The Night Before

Micro: Puffy, this is wrong. I know it's wrong. But it feels so...right.

Chair: Shhh. Baby, ain't nothing wrong with love.

Micro: I know, but...but...I always thought I'd be with...I'm sorry. An...appliance. A hot plate, or a gas stove, hell, even a refrigerator! But I knew you and I had a connection, the day I moved in. Steve would always heat up dinner in me, and then go sit in you. It was like we were living our relationship vicariously through him...does that make sense?

Chair: I know exactly what you mean. I felt it too. How could I not? Whatever came out of you was so...hot. Damn! I'd hear those buttons...beep, beep, BEEEEP! and I knew you'd be close to me, soon as that door swung open. But it wasn't close enough. Until now.

Micro: (sigh) Yes. Now. It's hard to believe, isn't it? It feels so good to be in your arms. You're so soft. And puffy. And...and...(sniff) it's all going to come to an end tomorrow morning! That weaselly little desk lamp told me that a big truck was gonna come, and separate us, and...and...it's not true, is it? Say it's not true!

Chair: Aw, Baby, Lamp is just mad 'cause Couch told him he didn't have enough watts to light up her life. Don't listen to him.

Micro: Hold me.