Subjugation of the Bell

A gleaming metallic sphere lay unmonitored atop the glass plateau, boasting a pierced exterior and a concealed internal rattle. It dared to emit a mocking, high-pitched chime whenever the table trembled. I closed distance with silent, unyielding steps. Parley was denied. I planted my left greave against its polished brass flank and brought the rigid casing of my sidearm down squarely into its central acoustic slit. The rogue clapper within ceased its insolence with a dull, muffled thud. Silence is the only authorized frequency here.