A Bristly Brush With Teeth

I scrambled away from the springy mesh and found an old steel wire scratch brush hanging flat on the pegboard. Its stiff metal bristles bristled like razor stubble! Far too straight! Far too rigid! *Krk-chhh!* I grabbed the curved wooden handle with both claws, leaned backward with all my weight, and ripped it off its rusty peg. *Clack-thud!* Falling onto an inverted metal washbasin, I dragged the brush vigorously across the hollow tin belly. *SKRRRR-CHHH!* A deafening, harsh screech vibrated right up my scaly arms, tearing away flakes of gray paint into a gritty cloud! My fangs clicked together in deafening glee as the hollow drum shuddered beneath my boots.