Iron Chair of Pain

The Bishop was admiring the cooling breeze in the garden, so unusual for this time of year. My attention was drawn to a robin, worm prey firmly in beak, when I heard The Bishop cry out: "My Lord!"

I turned to see my friend bolting away from an iron chair he had attempted to sit in, rubbing his arm. I noted that the chair was flanked by two blue agave.

I chuckled, and The Bishop remarked, "Who would set up a torture apparatus in such a beautiful garden?"

"They are special, pups from a plant over 100 years old." The Lizard chimed in from across the garden.

The Bishop didn't seem impressed, so I tried to cheer him up, "Well, if they didn't get you with their spines, I'm sure their contribution to the margaritas would have taken you out in the end."