Gumball Grievance

I set my sights on an ancient claw-and-capsule machine outside a closed electronics shop. Inside that glass globe, a neon green rubber bouncy ball sat on top, practically daring me to claim it. The polished metal turn-knob looked like a steering wheel meant for serious business. I leaped, wrapped both arms around the metal crossbar, and threw all my weight into cranking it. Clack-clunk! The dial budged exactly a quarter-turn before seizing up, snapping back and pitching me backward onto a dusty stack of wooden packing crates. I brushed off my back, crossed my arms, and loudly informed the slot that its coin mechanism was clearly counterfeit.