And which was truly worse, Ignis? The fact that you were previous imagining Dean looking like a burrito, or that he was now apparently just a stalk of a man covered in ears?

There was a joke in there, probably relating to corn, but Ignis neither trusted himself to make it nor for Dean to get it, so he decided it was best to just move on.

"Well," he said, "if the goal is to prevent the chair from biting you, it would seem the goal would be to make such a prospect as unpalatable as possible. Considering it's a chair, I assume its most frequent method of attack is to go straight for the posterior. Perhaps, then, if those ghost peppers and Carolina reapers were not, per se, in a burrito meant as a poor distraction and disconnected punishment, but instead, rather, in your back pockets....Unless that chair is also a glutton for a level of heat even beyond that which is provided by your natural charms, then, no doubt it would certain think twice before its next chomp..."