alice: i need a new chair. mine is broken. the boss: you can use my old chair. i just got a new one. alice: the chair you sat in every day for the past twelve years? alice: by now that chair cushion is home to a thriving colony of your cooties. alice: that chair will be off--gassing you for decades. alice: i wouldn't touch that thing unless i were wearing a hazmat suit over my other hazmat suit. alice: i'm breaking into a flop sweat just thinking about it, and i think it's triggering my allergies. the boss: would you like to borrow my hand-kerchief? alice is visually in a daze.