Morning Wire Maneuver
I backed out of the slipper and marched into the kitchen, only to find a metal balloon whisk lying sideways on the cutting board. Its curved wires formed an obvious defensive fortress. Naturally, I launched an immediate frontal assault. I rammed my head straight between two steel loops. The wires sprang outward with a sharp twang, then snapped back, clamping tightly around my neck. I paused, suspended horizontally an inch above the wood. Why am I deliberately trapping my own skull inside baking utensils before breakfast? No clue. But retreat is for cowards. I thrust forward with both heels, wedging my chest into the wire cage until it chimed like a bell.

