Breakfast Beats

Morning came, and this kitchen was dead silent. Totally unacceptable. I charged straight into the tile expanse and found an upside-down steel cat bowl resting near the fridge. Perfect acoustics. I grabbed a hefty metal teaspoon from the floor mat with both claws, planted my stance, and slammed the bowl rim with a vicious downward swing. CLANG! The reverberation rattled right up my arms and buzzed straight into my jaw. I didn't stop—one, two, heavy downbeat! The whole floor hummed like a stadium riser. That is how you wake up a house.