This dining room chair has been attacking people for years. Its aggressions are committed stealthily and without reason: victims self-qualify merely by sitting on the chair, at which point the sharp end of a nail will poke them in the ass. Although it is amusing to watch habitually sedentary people suddenly become amazingly energized as they jump out of the chair hollering a variety of cuss words, overall the chair does not have a salutary effect on dinner parties.
Attempts to repair the chair have failed.
The chair is not important to me, but it is important to get rid of the damn thing. The problem with this is my wife, who views the chair as being imbued with some type of medieval holiness or random charisma that grants it immunity from being “persecuted”. I hate the goddamn chair and have fantasies of attacking it with a Husqvarna chain saw, kerosene, and matches.