Hanging Ticket Chomper

Slid straight out under the front gate and scampered down the block to the neighborhood dry cleaners! Right on the counter sat an old metal ticket spindle with a wicked sharp brass spike pointing straight at the ceiling. Pure danger dart! Right beside it rested a chunky cast-iron receipt embosser with a heavy round lever. I scrambled up the wooden stool, planted both paws on that cold iron bar, and dropped down with a full plush stomp! CHUNK-CRUNCH! The heavy teeth bit into a scrap tag with a sharp, echoing snap that rattled straight up through my elbows! The sudden kick bounced me clean backward into a basket of plastic hangers, chiming like a miniature wind harp!