Susan: An Ikea just opened in the city. Since we are all older than adolescence and for some reason all still live together, we should go and get some new furniture that gives us the appearance of being functional adults as well as the ability to protect our meager bank accounts and the opportunity to increase our construction skills.
Peter: That sounds like an excellent idea and a completely standard use of our time that will in no way lead to anything unusual.
Lucy: I agree. All of our past experiences with furniture have been normal.
Edmund: This sounds terrible because we will have to leave the house. Also, the last time we investigated a closet, I ended up being practically sacrificed by animals. Not sure why the rest of you are conveniently forgetting this entire experience that was extremely traumatic for me.
Susan: It’s settled then! We will take the train, which is the easiest method of transportation when large, heavy packages are involved.
*17 hours later*
Peter: Here we are at Ikea. I need somewhere to hang and store my clothes. What’s that thing called again?
Mr. Tumnus: *appears suddenly and mysteriously* I know just the thing for you.
Susan: Thanks for your help! By the way, you look awfully familiar, which is strange because I can’t remember ever meeting an Ikea employee who has the legs of a goat.
Mr. Tumnus: Don’t worry about it. Let me guide you. I think I know exactly what needs you — I mean *swivels dramatically* exactly what you need.
Edmund: Can’t I at least go get a cinnamon bun first? No? *sighs in a long, drawn-out manner*
Lucy: My, this is a long hallway we are walking down. The towels never seem to end.
Mr. Tumnus: If you look closely, you will notice that some of those towels are in fact made of stone. No thanks to Her. *grimaces*
Peter: That is in no way an unusual thing for an Ikea employee to say. In fact, I might just purchase some of these stone towels as a decoration.
Susan: Are those sleigh bells I hear?
Mr. Tumnus: Oh no! It’s Her! *dives into the woods*
Edmund: Where did those woods come from?
Lucy: I think it’s where they harvest their furniture. I read about it in a Buzzfeed article — “16 Things You Didn’t Know About Ikea.”
White Witch: *pulls up alongside them in a $149 couch pulled by wolves* SONS OF ADAM AND DAUGHTERS OF EVE??? HERE??? IN MY DOMAIN???
Susan: Actually, our dad’s name is Neil and our mom’s name is Jennifer. Does that couch pull out into a bed by any chance?
White Witch: Only as a form of punishment. Hey, how do you totally unfamiliar young folks whom I’ve definitely never met before feel about Turkish Delight and betrayal?
Peter: Is that what those bookshelves over there are called? I can’t keep track of all these fancy Ikea names.
Edmund: See, THIS is why I wanted to get a cinnamon bun. Gotta satisfy those sweet-tooth cravings before some lady in a sled tries to tempt you to the Dark Side. Again, I seem to be the only one who has made any lasting lifestyle changes based on our past experiences with this very witch.
White Witch: what lol I don’t know you
Susan: Hey, Peter, not to distract you from the fascinating scene that is unfolding in front of us, but doesn’t that thing up there look perfect for your clothes?
Peter: Oh yeah, that’s it! What’s that thing called again? I can never remember.
Lucy: *squints at label* Looks like it’s called a War Drobe.
White Witch: Yes! It is War Drobe, and I wish to add it to my collection of underpriced, underbuilt portals to other worlds. You Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve must purchase it for me because I have none of this “cash or credit” that the minions here request.
Edmund: Why am I the only one who is at all disturbed by this situation?
Random Ikea Employee: *pops up from corner* Ugh, Todd, looks like the weird lady who keeps dragging that couch around is back. Where did she even get those wolves? Can you call security, Todd?
White Witch: We don’t have much time. Quickly, to the portal!
Peter: Looks like this should fit exactly in my room, which is itself about the size of a wardrobe. *opens door* Cool, there’s space for my fur coats!
White Witch: Fur coats! This is it! This is the portal I need! *dives into the wardrobe, knocking it off the wall because Ikea wardrobes are not built to support human weight*
Random Ikea Employee: *runs over* Oh no! That wardrobe must be deficient! No worries, we will destroy it, as is our custom.
White Witch: *stuck inside* Help! If they destroy this portal then I will never be able to come back to this world!
Edmund: I see nothing wrong with this plan.
Susan: Wait, did the couch lady go into the unstable furniture? Is she gone forever?
Lucy: It sounds like it’s for the best.
Peter: Do I still get a wardrobe?
Random Ikea Employee: Yes, here it is in a box that is twice your size and impossible to carry.
Edmund: That sounds perfect. We have an alternate method of transportation that will suffice. *whistles* HEY ASLAN!
*A warm breath of wind blows through the air, carrying the Pevensies and their unreasonably large wardrobe box back to their home. The warm breath of wind then very kindly assembles the wardrobe for them in under 20 seconds*
Lucy: Whoa did anyone else just get the weirdest sense of déjà vu?
Peter: That was a weird ride you arranged for us, Ed. Was it like a new Uber feature or something?
Lucy: You called it Aslan, right? Hmmm I’ll have to Google that later. In the meantime, I’m going to go sit in the wardrobe, which is a thing that I still do for no particular reason.
Edmund: Honestly, why do I even bother.