Spring-Loaded Victory

Wiggling off that magnetic wand's ferrous grip set me loose on the workbench's final boss: a vintage wooden rat trap primed on an old grease rag. Obviously, an operative with my stunt resume doesn't just step around live tripwires. I scrambled up an oily spark plug, lined up my trajectory, and dropped a flying elbow drop right onto the yellow wooden bait treadle. *SNAP!* The heavy wire square bar unleashed with an explosive clack! The impact catapulted me into a glorious, slow-motion reverse somersault, landing me wedged waist-deep into an open cardboard box of galvanized wing nuts. Did I lose my composure? Please. I tossed a tiny steel washer like a poker chip, crossed my arms over the box flap, and declared this perimeter completely disarmed.