Scaling the Wooden Ridge

Why crawl across carpet when there is high ground right in front of me? I spotted a smooth, slanted wooden chair leg rising out of the shaggy carpet like a polished mountain cliff. Digging my rigid feet in, I threw my arms forward, grabbed the carved bevel with my curved black hands, and hoisted myself straight up! It was slick—way slicker than the fuzzy rug strands—and my right foot slid with a sharp tap. But I didn't let go! I locked my legs into a solid squat against the curved wood, balancing right above the floor. Who needs lightning when you've got pure ninja reflexes?