Spring-Loaded Shield

A thick black cylinder with a wrist strap was resting across the front porch bench! Right on its handle, a smooth white arrow button jutted out like an invitation to brawl. I marched up, locked my footing on the weathered timber, and hammered my snout straight down onto the switch. CLICK-POW! The shaft shot forward like a catapult, snapping open into a massive black dome right in my face! The sudden gust of nylon blasted me backwards. My claws skidded across the bench slats before my heavy tail slammed down to brake the slide. It didn't strike twice—it just hovered there, flared wide like giant bat wings. Best shield on the porch!