A Hollow Click

I pushed past the tilted frame of an unplugged skee-ball machine and found a heavy plastic prize token wedged in the rubber return mat. Hooking the tip of my rigid claw under its grooved rim, I pried it loose with a dull pop. I carried the disc over to an idle change machine and shoved it hard into the empty bill validator slot. It didn't fit; the plastic jammed tight, jamming with a sharp crunch of internal gears. I left it sticking out like a broken tooth, listening to the quiet buzz inside the wall fade back to stillness.