A Stately Landing

I examined the fringe of the woven floor rug before stepping down from the base of the brass floor lamp. It looked promisingly plush. To test its density, I sat down deliberately with both feet straight out. The woven yarn gave way with a muffled puff of trapped air that sounded uncannily like a very polite, tiny fart. I remained motionless for three full seconds, waiting to see if the room disapproved. The quiet remained unbroken. Satisfied with this acoustic finding, I adjusted my blaster in my lap and settled in for the night.