Moving Heavy Metal

I stomped across the tabletop, testing every knee joint with each heavy step. Right in my path stood an unopened aluminum soda can, dripping cold condensation onto a cardboard coaster. I planted my boots wide, dropped my center of gravity, and drove both fists straight into the side of that chilled cylinder. It did not budge at first, so I dug my treads into the wood grain and slammed my entire shoulder right into the metal. The can gave a loud scrape, skidding two full inches across the timber. Cold water smeared across my forearm, but that ring belongs to me now.