In college and for some time after I had a hideously ugly, bright orange couch. It was incredibly comfortable, fairly easy to move but damn useful since it was a pullout. No matter how well rested I was or how jacked up on coffee, if I sat down on the couch it would pull me in like a black hole. If I stayed there too long, it would knock me out and I’d wake up a few hours later with drool all over my cheek and corduroy lines on my face, wondering what the hell happened and why it was suddenly dark (or light) outside. The Gravity Couch would swallow whole days if you let it, and if you tried to fight it you would almost always lose. Once you sat down the only way out was to close your eyes and sleep. It was pure evil.