A Grinning Can

I slipped past the front steps and marched down the damp concrete path to the street curb. Sprawled right in the gutter was a discarded red soda can, crushed flat into a glorious, jagged grimace! Its silver tab stuck straight up like a twisted horn, and the dark opening gaped in a silent, breathless shriek. Naturally, it needed more character. I planted my heel directly over its crumpled belly and leaned all my weight forward until—CRUNCH! The metal buckled with a sharp, grating squeal, folding into a violently crooked snarl. Now it looks properly manic, grinning right back at me from the gravel.