What a park bench wants

Of course, it wanted to be sat upon.

"That's not true" claimed the bench, moaning. How could such a noble bench in the park have ulterior motives of any kind? It was simply enjoying the fact that people used it for once. Yes, that was the reason and nothing else.

Leave a poor bench alone─enjoying Forest Dump's Dumptruck butt was nothing perverted. It was merely an expectation placed on it from a society that never once had thought that a bench could be sentient.

Also, the outdoor seat was not blushing like a Japanese anime school girl running with a toast in her mouth; it was just very shy and not used to such a load.

Anyone should really be ashamed for seeing some strange in this entire situation.

Society and the Internet have caused your brain to be rotten to an extent that even a drooling piece of furniture was now sexualized. Did you not once stop and think how the bench must be feeling?

Go ahead and apologize for all the ill rumours you have spread about this useful object. Or do you intend to just stand for the rest of your life? Seriously, just because people pressed their fat cheeks onto its hard, wooden surface, that didn't mean it was depraved.

Get your mind out of the gutter and place it on the more than willing recipient in your local park.

In regards to a park bench, don't just go and place your head on somebody else. In short, just don't be a weirdo about it and think before you do stupid stuff.

Just place your sweet 3-letters onto the designated bench and be done with it. Because that was the very purpose of that invention. Yes, a bench in the park wanted to be sat upon. Who could have thought that?

Absolutely incredible logical deduction there, Mr Sherlock Homeless.

And even if that thing had a jolly good time with you smothering it with the jiggly meat at the rear end, what was so cumbersome about it? It was just enjoying its job regardless, why ruin the vibes, huh?

What was wrong for both sides of the transaction to enjoy the provided service?

It's not like the park bench could suddenly impregnate you and give you 5 little chairs as a present in 9 months' time. So, quit making a scene and just relax for a while. Believe you me, you were not only doing your back a favour with that.

Nobody was hurt here, we all were behaving like adults and benches were supposed to do. Otherwise, it would have not tolerated me doing all these rants for such a long time. This was how everyone should act, after all.

Uuuuuh before we continue a concerning thought came to mind...

"....Moaning Park Bench, how old exactly are you?"

" I was 18 years old," spoke the moaning bench, now moaning much harder.

"...is that considered legal, in Bench years?"

" Yes, I am an adult bench" answered the bench in a seductive voice, clearly enjoying the current situation a tad too much.

Phew, an audible sigh escaped my lips as I just realized that I might have broken the law by sitting in an underage bank. I swear office, I did not know! But luckily I could continue this whole bit without being put behind bars.

"Screw you lolicons, I shall never cater to your taste and sully those innocent park benches. "

What exactly prompted me to scream that sentence out loud, remained a mystery to my mind, but at that exact moment, for whatever reason, it seemed to have made sense in this tiny brain of mine.

Yes, this clearly must be a metaphor to tackle the rampant sexualisation, which terrorised the youth in this day of age. The bench must be the very foundation of society, the columns, we humans, sit upon. The moaning should symbolize our dirty interpretation of absolutely natural things. What a beautiful characterisation about life in general...

That had to be it and not just the author finding the idea of a moaning park bench absolutely exhilarating and the funniest thing he had produced in years.

Because if should be a real character, then I would have to clarify more than a few things in order to avoid getting the good old cancelled treatment.

First of all, the bank was not fatphobic because there was a maximum limit on them. You guys, were just too chonky for the bank to enjoy so much meat in one place. The park bench had a maximum capacity of a family of 5...and there was just so much of you that the internal structure could not carry you.

Secondly, the bench did not have any sexual preferences of any kind. The bench was a bench in the park and would like to be treated as such. So, please refrain from shipping this piece of furniture with other objects. Thank you in advance.

Thirdly, the bench would like you, the reader, to know that it was just doing the task it had been built for. Acts of moaning, drooling and anything else were merely an expression of the bliss it felt when it got to serve the worn-out travellers.

Fourthly, please stop interpreting this as something entirely else. To refer back to the second point. This was a sentient park bench, not more than that. Therefore treat it as such.

The fifth point, as long as you read this story, think for yourself as to what a random moaning bench in the park could be about. I was more than certain you would soon come to realize that there was no meaning to it.

It merely was a tool, to insert a funny character into the already dried-out story in the vain attempt to create something called humour.

You might not like it, but that was the sole reason it came to be in the first place.

In the end, there would be another next chapter and the moaning thing would soon be forgotten about. As per usual that would be how the story goes.

Excuse me, a new chapter awaits....because I really hated out-drawn goodbyes.

Goodbye, my sweet sat-on park bench prince.