The Vault Key

I lunged for the shiny brass key resting flat against the low shelf of the coffee table. A proper corsair never leaves a sea chest without its brass master key! Bracing me wide red feet against the dark grain, I threaded me curved iron hook straight through the round metal eyelet. With a fierce yank and a gravelly cackle, I dragged the chilled prize across the timber planks! *Clink!* I hauled it straight up beside me newly claimed silver mint tin, clattering the heavy brass teeth flush against the lid. Har-harrr! No scallywag will lay a finger on me flagship vault now!