The Golden Scepter

I emerged from beneath the armchair with the stately grace of an international icon greeting morning press. Right beside the radiator sat an extraordinary golden wand: a long, shiny brass shoehorn leaning against the baseboard! A tool of sheer royal authority, obviously dropped for my coronation. I clamped my jaws around the curved metal neck and gave a mighty heave. The scepter clattered loudly across the floorboards with a dazzling metallic ring. Naturally, I planted both front paws firmly over the shiny brass blade, puffed out my plush chest, and declared the entire parlor officially open for business.