On folding chairs

I have just returned from our annual family trip down south to visit my father. His parish makes use of folding chairs in the nave (a couple hundred or so). I was lucky enough to have been visiting on Parish Meeting Sunday and listened to a discussion about the new chairs being purchased to replace the old, mismatched set. Someone was brave enough to ask if pews could be purchased. This question was met with a firm and stentorian response in the negative. I wondered, silently, why chairs (which function exactly like pews do) would be kosher while pews would not. Is there a belief that one day the congregation will choose to get rid of chairs entirely? No, was the answer I was given afterward. Will space be made (as is done in some parishes) for those who wish to stand while others enjoy the luxury of seating? No again.

This got me thinking about folding chairs. My children, somewhat unaccustomed to chairs (or pews for that matter), approach chairs with a mix of trepidation and wonder at the possibilities. Here's a short catalogue of what they have done with them in the past:

• The Siege Weapon: grab the chair firmly and slam it into the chairs on either side or into the shins of parishioners in the row behind us. The screeching sound is a natural byproduct.
• The Mountain Climber (best performed by a toddler): Climb onto the seat. Grab the back of the chair and rock precariously so that all around fear he will fall head first to the ground.
• The Daybed: Sit at the end of the row with at least two concatenated open chairs. Over time move from a modified single chair recumbency to an upper-torso-on-one-chair legs-tucked-on-the-other-chair method. This is often ignored by parents until the epiclesis when, expected to be quiet, the child is at his most unabashedly vocal at being rearranged into a marginally vertical standing position.
• The Kickstand: Lean against the chair in such a way that no more than two legs are on the ground at any one time. Act surprised when you lose your balance and the chair makes a loud, metallic clang on the church floor.
• The Tunnel Rat: With own eye, gauge your ability to crawl under the chair. Enter at every conceivable point and do the same for the exit. Be prepared to cry "I'm stuck!" at the top of your lungs should some part of your body or clothing get caught.
• Solo Musical Chairs: Place your hand on one point of the chair and slowly circle it. It is a good idea to cock your head in a modified Whirling Dervish position. If you become ill, you must mention this to everyone you are seated with. 
• Buttocks Battle Royale: Should you disagree with the ownership of a chair, take up one side of the chair with your opponent on the other. Use all possible means to gain gluteal ground. Extra points are given if chair ownership is won due to the other party needing to go to the bathroom.
• Butter Bottom: Show no apparent musculature capable of keeping you seated upright. Easily spotted by the pronounced slouch and not infrequent sliding completely off of the chair.
• The Rear Assault: Wait until the family in front of you is standing. Use that time to either push the chair into the back of their legs (thereby causing the person to splay his hands into the air in an alarmed fashion) or pull the chair back so they experience the Phantom Fall effect. If done without malice, parents are expected to apologize profusely. If done with nefarious intent, the child should be grabbed by the arm and walked quickly to the nearest exit. This will both cause the offended party to feel like something will be done to the child and so the parent can avoid direct eye contact full of opprobrium.

More technique comments welcome.