Fortress of Fluff

I slipped back inside through the porch screen after my garden spray bottle stunts, desperate for a little midnight fortress architecture. Right between two massive sofa cushions sat a forgotten, half-open cardboard tissue box, pointing straight up like a plush bunker. Naturally, civilian tissue extraction is far too dull, so I wedged my boots into the cushion crack, hooked two gloved hands under the next folded white sheet, and gave a ferocious vertical heave. Whoosh! A pristine cloud of three-ply erupted upward and drifted right over my head like an oversized parachute. I dove into the pillowy crater, wrapped the tissue around my shoulders like a regal coronation cape, and claimed executive ownership of this cozy command outpost.