Claiming the Throne

I jammed my metal bottle cap beneath the caster of an office chair, locking the wheel tight before hauling myself up the cold metal leg. A plastic frame has its limits, but patience is not one of them. Reaching the worn fabric of the seat, I found a pristine silver paperclip wedged between the cushions. Slipping one end into a narrow crevice beneath the armrest, I twisted the wire with both hands until it warped into a sharp, jagged hook. A modest scepter for now, perhaps, but a glorious start. Whoever locked me in that chamber will soon discover that even their discarded office junk answers to my command.