The Stompbox Cue

I noticed the wide brass doorstop spring coiled right beside the baseboard, practically begging for its solo cue! I tiptoed up, gave a dramatic pause, then stomped both paws straight down onto the coiled tip. *BOING-G-G!* The metal shuddered violently, buzzing right up through my plush heels like a roaring bass guitar. But the vibration knocked an old wooden clothespin off the shoe rack nearby. It tumbled down with a clacking rattle and wedged itself firmly under the spring, freezing the reverberation dead in its tracks. A sudden acoustic dampener? Brilliant! That was an unscripted curtain call, so I threw my arms out wide and beamed at the hall.