8. iron bench
"Someone is sitting on me," Jim realized.
Dave sat on the beautiful bench.
"Why is someone sitting on me? Who is that?" Jim wondered.
Dave began murmuring to the bench, a constant stream of incoherent babble. I didn't matter if it was incoherent. The bench understood him.
"Dave!" Jim exclaimed soundlessly in his mind.
Dave caressed the bench lovingly.
"I feel uncomfortable," thought Jim. He would have shuddered if he had possessed the proper anatomy for such an action.
The would be murderer was blissfully unaware of the inner monologue of his almost victim.