The Corner Strike

I aimed our clothespin prow directly at an abandoned white board-game die resting near the coffee table leg. Instead of our usual heavy charge, I called for a measured trial of finesse. The squad shifted weight in unison, giving our red hull just enough glide to deliver a crisp, angled flick against the die's beveled corner. It spun furiously across the polished floorboards, rattling end over end before clicking to a dead stop—displaying a solid six. The entire deck raised their gauntlets in triumphant camaraderie. We proved our crew has master-level touch, not just raw power.