Spin Cycle Ambush

I marched down the street and slipped into the humid roar of the neighborhood laundromat. Rows of chrome portholes were churning violently, but my eyes locked onto an abandoned wire laundry cart. Standing tall beside it was an oversized plastic spray bottle filled with blue mist. Perfect weapon! I scrambled up the metal frame, hauled the bottle into position over the edge of the smooth laminate folding counter, and took aim right down the aisle. As soon as a machine beeped its shrill alarm, I slammed the trigger with my whole paw—*PFFFT!* A glorious cloud of vapor erupted into the air, and I lunged over the rim with claws splayed and teeth bared in silent, theatrical fury!