Subjugation of the Remote Control

A soft mountain of dark cushions rose up to bar my advance. I drove my joints into the deep fabric creases, scaling the slope until I discovered a smooth metallic rod protruding from the shadows like a fallen staff: an aluminum knitting needle. I seized its cool length, turned, and brought the blunt tip down squarely onto a thick TV remote wedged between the cushions. The foam yielded, the rubber power node sank under direct point pressure, and the entire couch perimeter fell into dead silence beneath my boots.