Percival Palmpear Who Merged With His Armchair

Percival Palmpear sat in his armchair

And settled down nice for the evening.

Surrounded by sweets and chocolate treats

He awaited the day’s special screening;

A marathon session of his big obsession;

A triple bill special bonanza,

The director’s editions with all the additions

A ten-hour extravaganza.

He sat through the battles of lords and their chattels,

And the adverts for pizzas and pies.

As they gave him the munchies, he phoned ‘All-Day Lunches’

And ordered The Full – super-size.

Delivery boy Pete brought it right to his seat,

And he tipped him a quid for his trouble.

So he stayed where he sat, like a fat lazy cat,

Till his smooth chin was covered with stubble.

With the end credits running old Percy felt done in;

Too tired to climb up to bed,

So what were the chances, in these circumstances?

He slept in his armchair instead.

When he woke the next day he decided to stay

Where he sat with his friend the remote.

He watched Breakfast A.M., then the New Mr. Men

And repeats of his favourite; Love Boat.

For the rest of the week Percy sat in his seat,

Never missing a show on the telly,

Tipping Pete more and more just to come through the door,

As his house grew unbearably smelly.

And sometimes you know, things can happen so slow

They creep up on you, all unaware.

Nature’s unmerciful; atoms of Percival

Became atoms of Percival’s chair.

It’s so sad, but true, if he’d gone to the loo,

Even got up to walk to the kitchen,

The plain simple case is, atoms can’t swap places

Through thin air; this ain’t science fiction.

But the process, once started, (look away the faint hearted),

Must inexorably lead to conclusion,

Because Percival Palmpear merged into his armchair

In a complete molecular fusion.

Nowadays if you go to his house you won’t know,

When invited to sit where you choose,

So I think I should mention; pay special attention

That your feet are not resting on shoes.

For they’re all that remains, (except for those stains

That once ran down his shirt from his chin)

Now that Percival Palmpear is one with his armchair.

You may very well sit upon him.