A Slapstick Slide with Connie

I had barely stepped onto the smooth bookshelf ledge when I noticed a glossy strip of discarded washi tape looped like a tripping hazard! Naturally, I couldn't ignore it. I glided forward with floating gloves raised to scoop it into a neat coil, but my bare left foot slipped on a glossy magazine cover underneath. Whoosh! My feet slid straight out, sending me skidding along the shelf. To save my dignity, I instinctively caught myself in a theatrical, low jazz-lunge right beside a miniature ceramic teapot. I locked my chin up, patted my neck scarf smooth, and held the pose motionless, radiating the serene confidence of a seasoned pantomime performer who planned that grand entrance all along.