A Swift Maneuver

I braced my boots against the weave of the rug and darted straight past that imposing blue figure. Before it could swing, I spotted a shiny chrome key ring resting by the leg of an armchair. I grabbed the ring with both gloved hands, rolled smoothly across the carpet, and propped it up against the baseboard like a gleaming shield. That metallic stranger didn't follow; it just stayed frozen where it stood. A quick survey of the perimeter showed the whole room is clear, and I secured our first piece of sturdy gear without a scratch.