Furniture Warriors
PART 26 - One Nightstand
Or
All Alone I'm A Crowd
******
Furniture was  Spoof Chase Production
But now it's 
An Improfanfic Production (http://pixelscapes.com/improfanfic)
The Furniture Warriors Improfanfic was originally created by Stefan
"Twoflower" Gagne 

This episode was written by Clint Milton, who's not to into malletting, but
does have fun playing Wack-A-Mole, does that count?
*******
(All characters copyright Nihana-san, obviously. If I ever even considered
claiming that these were my own characters I'd probably be thrown into a
small cell where I'd be forced to eat my words in order to survive.  Or
worse, be made to play Pokemon the CCG three days a week every week for the
next 39 weeks.  Oh, wait . . .)
*******

WARNING:  This was started after I beat Sonic Adventure with all seven
characters in one day.  Be afraid, be very afraid.

*******

	Ikea's right eyebrow twitched as he attempted to gain mastery over his
emotions.  `I just want to be the way I was,' he thought remorsefully.  `If
I can just find my path, I can walk backwards and arrive where I started
from.  So to speak.'  A single tear began to fall from his left eye, and he
cursed mentally.  `This is not working.  I have to go deeper.'
	`Deeper, you say?' a voice replied inside Ikea's mind.  `As you wish." 
Ikea fell face first into the ground.
	"Totally unfroody," Yarslov said, poking his
friend-turned-murderous-psychopath with his pool cue.  "Is he . . . dead?"
	"Are you kidding?" Shelly shouted.  "Ikea was meditating.  People don't
die when they're meditating.  It just doesn't happen."

*******
	Meanwhile, in a Tibetan monastery that has nothing to do with our
story, a monk fell dead while meditating.

*******
	Shelly fought back a sweatdrop.  "Sure," she said hesitantly, "Maybe it
happens in monasteries in Tibet, but it never . . ." she was silenced as
hand went across her mouth.
	"It's best not to push things," Yarslov said gravely.  Joanie nodded in
agreement.  Shelly sighed and looked at her feet.
	"But all the same," she muttered dejectedly, "I know everything's going
to be fine for Ikea."

********
	Everything was not fine for Ikea.  He found himself staring at a path
ahead of him.  It reminded him of the road leading to the monastery, his
home.  His heart ached to be home now, with his sister Lumi back to normal
and his sensei berating him.  Already, he could smell the varnish that his
sensei would have him spread lovingly over his chair five or six times a
day.  He could hear the shrill, cute "Wai, wai" as she found a grasshopper
to chase or some other cute thing she always did.  He could taste the rice
balls with soy sauce that was served on special occasions.  Faced with
these memories, and given Ikea's current state of mind, he did the only
thing a person could do.
	He fell to his knees and blubbered like a baby.  The tears flowed from
Ikea's eyes like rain during the rainy season in the Amazon Rain Forest. 
Various words and phrases spewed from his lips, the most common containing
"home" or "mommy."  This continued for several minutes as Ikea was at the
complete mercy of his emotions.
	"Oh, knock it off," said a voice behind Ikea, "The way you're carrying
on, you'd think I'd planned this."  Ikea turned to face . . . Ikea.  The
blubbering Ikea stopped crying.
	"You . . . you're . . ."
	"You, yes.  You're in your mind, Ikea.  Where did you think you were?"
	"To be honest, I thought I was on my way home."  Ikea (the one who was
crying earlier) began to sniff.
	"Well, wrong.  Now stop crying and talk to me.  We have a lot to work
out."
	"Indeed we do," came another voice behind both of them.  Ikea and
Emotion (who we'll call him from now on) turned to face . . . another Ikea.
 Emotion snarled.
	"What do you want, Logic?"
	"The same thing you do, a complete Ikea."
	"What about your cronies, Devotion, Loyalty, and Honor?  You guys have
been keeping me down for quite a while now. . ."
	"That turned out to be a mistake.  You became too powerful.  But now,
the time has come to put you back into your corner of the mind."
	"NO!  I'll never go back!"
	"We shall see."  Logic moved toward Emotion, who cowered away in fear. 
Fear gave way to desperation, which hatched a plan.
	"Let's let Ikea decide."  Logic stopped.
	"Agreed.  Ikea will be judge.  His ruling will be final."
	"But . . . but . . ." Ikea stammered.  There was a flash of light, and
Ikea found himself sitting on a chair with both Logic and Emotion at either
side of him.
	"Let it begin," Logic said.
	"Agreed," Emotion added vigorously, "Ill go first."  He turned to Ikea.
 "Ikea, what do you value?"  Ikea pondered that thought for about half a
second.
	"Inner peace," he responded, "and the teachings of the Tibetan
Furniture Warriors Dojo." Logic nodded.
	"And what do those teachings tell you to do with your emotions?" 
Emotion continued.
	"To cast them aside, suppress them, and avoid them in other ways. 
Emotions are a hindrance, and can only hold you back."  Logic nodded again.
	"You make your sensei proud, don't you?"  Ikea nodded.  "But isn't
pride an emotion?  So even your sensei can't live by the teachings of your
dojo.  How does that make you feel?"  Ikea started to answer, but Logic
interrupted.
	"You're twisting the argument there, Emotion.  He doesn't have to
answer that."
	"He does, because it proves my point!"  Emotion turned to Ikea.  "You
need me, Ikea.  Look around you.  All your friends have access to their
emotions, and they're doing fine in the tournament."
	"Yes," Ikea countered, "but they did not defeat Marlo."
	"Let's look at that, shall we?  I gave you that win, Ikea.  You tapped
into your emotions and released the power of pure, raw, hatred.  The only
problem came when you tried to lock me away again.  I'm here now because a
part of you LIKES the idea of having emotions."  He turned back to Logic. 
"And YOU can't argue that."  Logic held his ground. 
	"Maybe not," he said, "but I can say this.  The fight with Marlo was
sloppy.  He could have won a lot faster with a few simple techniques he had
been taught back as a child.  You made him forget that."
	"But I gave him the win!"
	"Marlo's still a threat, isn't he?"
	"Well . . . yes."  Emotion hung his head.
	"Then did Ikea really win?"
	" . . . no."
	"So did you really give him anything?"  Emotion didn't answer.  That
was answer enough for Logic. He turned to Ikea.  "Ikea, you have a choice
to make.  Choose me, and everything will be back the way it was.  You'll be
exactly the way you were before, and your emotions will never be a problem
again."  Ikea began to answer when Emotion asked a simple question.
	"How many Tibetan Furniture Warrior Dojos are there?"  Ikea pondered
that for a moment.
	"I have heard of others," he began, "but I have only seen ours."
	"And don't you think there's a reason for that?"
	"I do not see what that could be."
	"Ikea, you and your sister were the last of the new generation.  You
were supposed to win this tournament to show the glory of the Tibetan
Wooden Chair style, correct?"
	"Correct."
	"Well, don't you think the reason that you're the last of the new
generation is because the others realized that locking away a part of you
is hampering you?"  Emotion turned to Logic.  "And you can't say a word
about what I'm doing, because I'm using your style."  Logic said nothing. 
Emotion turned back to Ikea, who was mulling over his words.
	"You . . . have a point.  I have never looked at it that way."
	"Don't you see, Ikea?  By locking me away, you've denied yourself so
much.  Don't you wish you could laugh at Yarslov's jokes or Shelly's
senseless pounding of him into a Yarslov jelly?"  Ikea snorted at that
thought.  "Your friends would finally accept you as human, Ikea, and you
could finally tell your sister that you love her . . . in a brotherly
fashion, of course."  Ikea thought about it for a long time.
	"I choose Emotion," he said.  Emotion backed off in a hurry.
	"Woah, now," he exclaimed, waving his arms in front of him, "I don't
want to be in charge.  We all agree that would be bad.  Heck, we've seen
what happens."  Logic just looked at him.
	"What do you want then," Logic asked.
	"I want you in charge, but I want to be around to help with things. 
And, I want a say in what happens.  I think that Joanie's cute, and I want
us to tell her."
	"NO!" both Logic and Ikea said.
	"I had to try, though, you have to admit that," Emotion laughed.
	"Your other points are valid, though," Logic said as he mulled over the
points.  "I see no fault in your argument or anything that I disagree with
in your demands.  I support your idea."
	"I accept that too," Ikea said as he took both their hands.  There was
a flash of light.

********
	Ikea opened his eyes in time to stop Yarslov from smashing his pool cue
over his head.  He stood.
	"That is unnecessary," Ikea said.  "As you can see, I'm fine."
	"Way froody!" Yarslov exclaimed, throwing his arms around Ikea. "You
gave us a way gnarly scare, there."  Shelly nodded.
	"So, how are you?" she asked hesitantly.  Everyone in the room
remembered the fight Yarslov and Ikea had a few moments ago.
	"It is all taken care of," Ikea stated emotionlessly, "I am at peace
once again."
	"Great!" Yarslov said as he removed his arms from Ikea's body.  "Now we
can move on and finally defeat that unfroody Ottoman Empire.  Even if the
Emperor isn't in control anymore."  He started off, tripped over a rock,
and landed in a banana cream pie which apparently had been placed there for
just such an occasion.
	Ikea laughed.  It was a loud, long, hearty laugh that echoed.  It was a
booming, thunderous laugh -- the kind that reached out beyond the laugher
and tickled everyone who heard it, causing them to laugh as well.  Well, it
would have, had the laugher not been Ikea.  Everyone stared at him.
	"You, uh . . ." Yarslov started, wiping the pie off his face, "you
alright?"
	"Yarslov," Ikea responded, helping Yarslov off the ground, "for the
first time in my life, I am indeed."  He smiled, and walked off with his
friends.  Mentally, Ikea went through and replayed every joke he'd ever
heard, chuckling at the punchlines.  Yarslov, Shelly, and Joanie just
looked at each other.
	"Uh . . . okay," Joanie said hesitantly.

********

In the next episode:

 VIOLENCE!! ACTION!!! DRAMA!!! IKEA'S LAUGHTER!!! AND FURNITURE OF
LEGENDARY PROPORTIONS!!!

ALL THIS AND MORE IN THE NEXT LEGENDARY EPISODE OF FURNITURE WARRIORS!!!!

EPISODE 27: (INSERT TITLE HERE)


********
Author's Note: (Or: Why I did what I did.)

	It had to be done.

	No, really, it did.  I know I didn't move the plot along in any way,
shape or form.  I know I didn't bring the Emperor around for another "White
Dwarf" reference.  I know that I didn't show Queen Radiance and Dark Queen
Irradiance at yet another ice cream parlor.  I even know that I didn't do
anything at all with Leonardo, Shelly, and Yarslov (love triangles can be
fun, especially when the girl hates both guys).  But I did (hopefully)
resolve the emotional Ikea thing.
	Don't get me wrong, I loved the idea behind Ikea's wild mood swings in
battle.  And the emotional Ikea thing was way better than the "stoic
warrior" ideal.  But like all good things, it got old fast.  It seemed like
everyone wanted to get this part done, so I finished it.  But I didn't want
to have him back as emotionless.  So I made him normal.
	Fellow authors, please note:  Logic still rules his mind.  For the most
part, Ikea's personality hasn't changed.  This just opens up some more
options for him, character development-wise.  I mean, he's supposed to be
the hero.  He seemed too one-dimensional to me.
	All in all, this was fun and a bit nostalgic.  Furniture Warriors was
the first Impro I ever read.  I had wanted to write for this since the
beginning.  I hope you had as much fun reading it as I had writing it.

	A special thank you to Ian Heafer, Mike Thrall, and Scott Stockton for
proofreading this.  I'm very glad I had time to get it proofread.  Thanks,
guys.

--Clint