The Worm of Chairs, or: The Queen - Scholars of the past era disagree about the nature of the object on display. Most probably, it resulted from a mutational defect during the evolutionary transition from one generation of objects to the next. Researchers have mentioned such terms as sitting, inhabiting, personal space, contemplative space and more. Yet in fact, tables and chairs would ground their owners' imagination, as opposed to letting them lose their path in creative dreamlands. Following the disappearance of leaves from the world, the slowly dying tree trunks started seeking one another and connecting rootlessly, launching a new process of evolution. In fact, the Revenge of Furniture led by anthropomorphic wooden forms prompted the return of imagination and rekindled the flame of creation in a dying world. Multiplicity. Always more than one, all exactly similar to each other. Almost. In the previous era, the habit of collecting, a financial ability that could quickly morph into hoarding, became a common occurrence in the Objectifiers’ homes. The objects displayed in this area would probably almost always come in pairs of four, six or ten legs that would run around the entire space looking for a place to sit. Alternatively, the primitive human need to order and organize an increasingly chaotic and incomprehensible world led to the regimentation of the chairs in rows or stacks. The army was submissive, obedient and ready for war, at the sight of the magnificent Queen, herself an embodiment of the ancient magic of triggering violence at the push of a finger. Indeed, this image echoed the famous ancient saying "every butterfly before its transformation was a worm." The queen-as-collector symbolizes the process of evolution from royal chair to comfortable chair. Comfort in consumerism allows for a new condition: from now on, not just kings can afford everything, but us as well. The whole world is now made of kings, free to consume mountains of meaningless stuff delivered to their doorstep in urgent anonymity. Death is a slow languid crawl, lacking in both pretension and imagination.