ALMOST EVERYONE ON THE PLANET EARTH would likely identify and refer to the above items as Throw Pillows, or Pillers, if you "was reared up country."
MY NEPHEW, ANDY, unfortunately took the "throw" part of the description too literally once when he, as a child, was left at the family's "sitter" for the evening. As these beautifully arranged items sat delicately on his Great-Granny's couch, Andy imagined them as cleverly disguised armaments "lying in wait" until just the right moment...a time when their TRUE identities and purpose could be revealed.
As the evening's excitement waned, Andy, bored from just sitting around (and a little resentful at having to waste his childhood hours being stuck with an old woman) decided that his primary "target" for this evening's mission would be Granny, herself! So Granny, unaware of the impending doom before her, relaxed in the recliner chair, listening to her favorite TNN music videos. Andy, ever watchful for an opportune moment, made his move.
As he manned his position as couch bombardier, he launched his first missile toward the target. Although somewhat deflected by the springy curls of her newly-coiffed head, his giggle confirmed A DIRECT HIT!
"Andy, stop throwing pillers at me or I'm gonna tell yer Daddy what you done!" is all she said. As the second, rather obscene-looking (neck roll) missile was hurled into the air, Andy thought to himself, "What does this little old woman think will save her? THAT lame threat?" Andy's roar of laughter at Granny's now askew glasses gave witness to his successful attempt.
"Alright, keep on throwing them pillers! I'm gonna tell yer Daddy what you done!"
"WOW! Now she's giving me permission!" thought Andy as he launched A FRENZY of decorative bombardments among peals of his own laughter. The relentless attack, which descended upon the now-rocking figure, was much like the finale of a fireworks display.
Battle-weary, with all stores of ammunition launched and his mission successfully completed, Andy laid himself down upon the cushion-less couch. Granny sat quietly, rocking back and forth in her chair... with both arms crossed...a definite signal of extreme dissatisfaction to those who knew her best.
A short while later, Andy's Dad returned to pick up his son. As was customary, the previously ignored (by Andy) question was raised to Granny, "Did you have any trouble?" With the THROWn "pillers" lying around her chair, bearing witness of the attack, Granny described the battle to a 'T.'
"Fast as a duck on a June bug," is appropriate in describing the volcanic eruption of movement and sound which immediately and unexpectedly rained down upon Andy. As Andy's Dad explained the error of his way, he duly received a rear-pounding with each spoken syllable, possibly equivalent in length to both The Preamble to the Constitution and The Star-Spangled Banner (all four verses) combined.
It was reported by witnesses that the disciplinary action ended at about the same time as was heard the resounding BLAM against the front door heralding the delivery of the next morning's paper.
It is said that, at his NEXT visit, Andy sat ONLY on the floor, far away from the couch and the temptation of its accouterments. Granny never had another problem with him or anyone else, including the paper boy!