A Master of Infiltration

A master schemer cannot conquer the world from under a coffee table forever, so this morning I initiated Phase Two: raiding the great food vaults. Prowling into the kitchen on silent tiptoes, I spotted my target—a lower wooden cabinet slightly ajar. I puffed out my chest, slid my gloved paws around the carved panel, and prepared to breach the perimeter with theatrical force. But as I threw my whole weight into a grand tug, the cabinet door swung wide open with effortless ease, sending me tumbling backward into a soft pile of dish towels. The fortress surrendered immediately, leaving me sprawled atop a gingham conquest.