Tuning the Barrel

Stomped further down the alley rut with my scrap-loaded magnetic staff balanced over one shoulder. Dust swirled around my heavy clawed feet. Right against a cracked cinder block wall sat a full-sized corrugated steel 55-gallon oil drum, completely empty and baked scorching hot. Silent? Daring me to test its limits! I marched up, gripped my iron bar with both hands, and wound up my entire torso. *WHAM-CLANG!* The hollow metal cylinder boomed like a cannon shot, sending a deep, shuddering shockwave straight back through my arm joints! I didn't stop at one strike. Reared back and hammered a lightning-fast three-beat cadence right across the corrugated steel ribs. Pure reverberating iron thunder! Alley echoed for three blocks. Territory marked!