Curtain Call

A proper ringmaster never lets his arena sleep past curtain call! I scaled the carved leg of the coffee table, planting my boots firmly on the polished wood. Resting beside an empty white porcelain mug lay a magnificent silver teaspoon. I gripped the slender neck with both gloved hands, hoisted the heavy utensil over my shoulder, and swung. CLANG! The ceramic rim chimed like a deranged cathedral bell, ringing sharp and loud across the quiet room. I threw my head back in theatrical triumph as the vibrations hummed straight through my arms. Rise and shine—the morning matinee has officially begun!