Ammunition Ramp

Staring through that pane won't do anything if my ordinance can't deploy in a split second. Right beside the curtain hem, I spotted a forgotten wooden popsicle stick, warped and coated in a streak of dried purple sugar. I rammed the muzzle of my heavy cannon under its blunt curved tip, levering the flat splinter off the painted sill. Clamping down with my translucent blue claw, I angled the stick directly over the battery blister pack, seating the lower end flush against the marble's round lip. Now it forms a sloped guide ramp. One tap, and heavy glass rolls straight into firing alignment.