A Slapstick Nightlight Finale

I trotted back indoors through the front flap, tucking in from the chilly sidewalk straight to the bedside side table. Sitting right beside a stack of old journals was an antique accordion-arm brass reading lamp with an inviting rotary clicker switch. Naturally, every theatrical night owls' revue needs a proper spotlight dousing! I leaped up onto the leather journal stack, grabbed the ridged metal turn-key with both gloved mittens, and threw my plush body into a grand downward heave. *Click-snap!* The amber bulb flashed dark, but the brass spring arm gave an unexpected recoil shudder! The jolt kicked my boots clean into the air, flipping me backward into a neat, comical somersault. I landed seated squarely inside an empty, plush-lined velvet spectacle tray, grinning into the cozy dark. Curtain down!