A Proper Perch

I was admiring my new mint tin dugout when I realized the metal rim was far too steep to step over gracefully without bruising a shin. Sighing at my lack of decent furniture, I dragged over a bright yellow plastic bottle cap that had rolled against a tangle of black cables. Rolling it over was easy enough, but nudging it flush against the tin lip took every ounce of weight I could throw into it. With a dull thud, it wedged tight. I scrambled on top of the cap and hopped cleanly over the tin edge without a single stumble. Brilliant bit of engineering, if I say so myself.