The rule was small. Whoever was winning must stand until their next turn. The Doomsayer did not treat it as small.
"In a world," they began, "where one player sits comfortably on a lead..." The table went quiet. The leader, a mild person in a cardigan, rose slowly under a trailer-voice account of their own downfall. "One player. One chair. No mercy."
They stood through the whole of the next round, hand hovering over their cards like someone defusing a bomb, while everybody else made the noises you make at a disaster movie. When they were finally allowed to sit, the Doomsayer said, quite softly, "But the chair... remembers."
It was the most dignified anyone had ever been about a chair.