This one had the distinction of being designated as. '"Dad's Chair"'. It always had the aroma of machine oil about it. Dad worked in a tool and die sh...p. Many times he had come home, tired from work, and had collapsed onto the chair before showering and changing clothes. So, machine oil from his clothes, transferred to the chair. Occasionally, metal filings found their way onto the chair, as well.Please remember that I was only three or four at the time, and that my perspective of size has. Who. Do. You. WORK FOR!!!”Gregor began to struggle to breathe as Dave squeezed, managing to choke out, “Lo… Lord… Mordred…”Dave relaxed his grip at this, continuing, “Where is he? What is he doing here?”“He… prepares… to attack… Camelot…”“My thanks,” Dave said with a grin, knocking the man unconscious with a conk to the head. “Madeleine, get dressed. We have to move quickly,” he continued, slipping on his shirt and pants.“Of course,” she replied, drying off with Dave’s picnic blanket. “What do. More

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