"I don't expect Couch to talk back. But sometimes it does and I have to leave the room for a while." - Crazy Dave, Plants Versus Zombies Official Guide to Protecting Your Brains page 147.

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Crazy Dave went into his living room. Couch sat there, like always. The way the fabric sagged from one arm to the other made it look like Couch had an enormous frown. Crazy Dave knew it wasn't really a frown, because it wasn't really a face, but that didn't stop him from talking to Couch.

"Cheer up, Couch!" Crazy Dave cajoled. "It's the weekend. Don't you just love the weekend? It means you get to lie in front of the TV all day."

Couch refused to cheer up.

"Maybe it's all the same for you, since you lie in front of the TV every day," Crazy Dave allowed, "but that's even more reason to be happy, because you get to pretend it's always the weekend!"

This didn't have any impact. He wondered if Couch was bored, living what amounted to the same day over and over. A change of pace might be in order for his smelly old friend.

"Just because the zombies are keeping us from leaving the house doesn't mean we can't have fun," Crazy Dave suggested. "We could have a dance off. I bet you're a great dancer with your four legs. What's even better, we get to make our own music, because there aren't any radio transmissions any more."

Crazy Dave started humming loudly, and broke into a combination of waltz and boogie-woogie, in case Couch liked to mix things up a bit.

"You can't pretend forever, you know," said a voice as dull and lifeless as the zombie bits scattered across the lawn. "You're stuck here, and you'll never get out. It's only me, Chair, and some plants with you now. That's all you have to stave off your ever increasing emotional needs."

Even though the sagging lips didn't move, he knew it was Couch who spoke. It always sent a shiver up his spine whenever Couch said anything. He was pretty sure the couch didn't talk before, in those vaguely remembered days when there were no zombies, when he could go out and see other people rather than spending all his time alone. Back then Couch had just been a couch. Of course, it was all different now. These days Couch was more than a piece of furniture, it was one of his closest friends. It wouldn't be fair to alienate Couch now. Crazy Dave wasn't going to leave the room this time, nuh-uh. It was time he and Couch exchanged some honest words. It was good to talk out your problems with your friends, especially when you and your friends were trapped together by a zombie horde.

"You can't fool me, Couch. You're saying stuff like that because you're afraid of being alone," Crazy Dave insisted. "You don't have to worry about ever getting lonely, because you'll always have me to sit on you and to hide bacon between your cushions."

"I'll always have you," Couch echoed. For a moment he thought Couch was actually going to agree with him on something, but then it went on "I'll have you until the zombies break through your defenses and eat your brains. Then I'll have a zombie sitting on me, hiding brains between my cushions, and then eating the brains he hid. They're going to get you eventually, you know."

"Oh boy," Crazy Dave muttered. "No wonder you're unhappy, when you're such a downer."

"Life is short and terrifying," Couch said. "You only live once, and you'll probably die getting eaten by a zombie."

"What you need is a new slogan. How about 'You only live until the zombies get you. Then you're unliving!'" Crazy Dave struck a heroic pose, but Couch had no reaction. "All right, so that slogan could use a little work. We could brainstorm together. Brainstorm! Try telling that to a zombie, ha, ha," Some days he cracked himself up.

Couch stared at him meanly. For a big lump of stuffing and springs, it had no sense of humour. If weekends, TV, dancing, or even jokes couldn't cheer it up, nothing would. There was some furniture you just couldn't change. Crazy Dave headed back out of the room, leaving Couch to scowl. This was a good time to talk to his plants instead.