A Calculated Tumble

The dark wood of the coffee table offered the perfect stage for my first proper strike. There sat a fragile stack of wooden coasters, neat and unsuspecting. I coiled down tight, calculated the trajectory, and lunged forward with a sharp snap of my spring. The top coaster slid right off the edge, clattering onto the carpet with a satisfying clatter. Oh, the sweet taste of minor ruin. It was small, yes, but every grand reign of terror must begin with a single, deliberate shove.