The Chair

Rob works at his computer. He’s trying to concentrate but can’t. He looks down a sees Bruce burning a hole in him.

Rob: Hey.

Bruce: Hey.

Bruce stares intently at Rob.

Rob: You good?

Bruce: Pfft, yeah.

Rob: You sure?

Bruce: Um, yeah, mom.

Rob tries to go back to work, Bruce continues to stare, Rob stops abruptly.

Rob: You’ve just been staring at me for five minutes. It’s weirding me out.

Bruce: You’re weirding yourself out.

Rob: Stop it. What’s your deal? 

Bruce: You’re in my chair.

Rob: Your chair? I’ve never seen you in this chair before.  

Bruce: Well maybe if you were home more often…

Rob: Oh, we’re not doing this again! If you want to get a job and work, by all means, go for it!

Bruce: You could at least take me with you.

Rob: Is the chair the issue or is it your never ceasing abandonment issues?

Bruce: Oh, that’s rich from the commitment-a-phobe!

Rob: I’ve committed myself to your aggravating ass, haven’t I?

Bruce: No one likes you.  

Rob: Why do you always go straight to the deep cuts?

Bruce: Your pain feeds my abandoned soul.

Rob: I don’t have time for your games.

Bruce: You use to have time for me.  

Rob: For God’s sake, pick a lane! Is it the abandonment or chair?

Bruce: The chair.

Rob: Fine. Take it.

Rob gets up and moves to another spot.

Bruce: Now it’s empty just like my soul.

Rob starts packing his computer up.

Rob: Okay. I’m done. If you’re going be this way I’m just going to go to a coffee shop. Satisfied? Now you can sit in the chair alone. It’s a win/win for your emotional doggy baggage.

Bruce: Wow, aren’t we moody. 

Bruce watches Rob leave in frustration.

Bruce: Finally. 

Bruce jumps off the chair and over to the couch. His paw hits the remote, and the TV pops on.

Bruce: I’m a busy dog, Goddammit.

Bruce lavishly stretches out on the couch and sighs contently as Dr Phil begins …