Six days until I take posession of my new apartment.
I can tell this is foremost on my mind because I dreamed last night that I was inventing a video game called “Sofa Wars,” where, following a voodoo holocaust that eliminated humanity, furniture had come to life and invented its own civilization. You played the last scion of an ancient line of wingback chairs, fighting your way through the recliner hordes by pelting them with spare change, stale M&Ms, and other bits found in the cushions.
I lay half-awake for over an hour, still mulling this over in my brain–would I need more of a plot? Maybe you were a human who’s consciousness had been transferred into a chair by your voodoo mentor, in order to stand a chance against the ravening sofa mob…no, that’d just be silly…where did the animals go, anyway? Were there sofataurs and chairmeras roaming the streets? You know, a half-crab, half-sectional would be a good endboss…hmm, maybe if you had a little cat familiar you could use for side-quests, we could switch POV and send the cat through the ductwork, and then he could always be sharpening his claws on you for comic relief…
I staggered to consciousness at last and went “Dude….wow.”
Still, if I had a video game company in my back pocket, I can’t swear that Sofa Wars would not be coming to a store near you some time in the future.