Scale of Retribution

Stalking past the fruit crates after my citrus raid, I ran straight into the final boss of the wooden checkout counter: an old mechanical hanging scale dangling a wide, dented metal weighing pan. The brass indicator dial was staring me down like a one-eyed sniper. Naturally, I had to bring down the hammer. I leaped onto the rim, drew both silver katanas, and stomped into a brutal landing dead center. Clang! The coiled spring groaned, the dish plunged four inches, and the red dial needle whipped wildly around the painted gauge before shuddering to a halt at a whopping two ounces of pure lethal power. Heavyweight division officially conquered.