The Rolling Boulder of Doom

I pushed through the patio screen door on an outdoor perimeter scout, and boom—trouble was already waiting by the wooden fence! A bright green, fuzzy sphere of pure menace was lurking on the flagstones. I leaped right toward it, drawing my twin golden blades, convinced it was a sneaky goblin orb sent by giant brutes. I gave it a heroic roundhouse kick with my plastic boot—and whoosh! The fuzzy tennis ball rebounded off the weathered fence post, rolled straight back, and knocked me flat onto my back! I scrambled back to my feet, dusted off my shoulder armor, and gave the fuzzy sphere a respectful nod. We have struck a truce.