Spire of Steel

That brass Eiffel Tower souvenir on the high bookshelf was practically screaming for a world-class stunt. I scrambled up its crisscrossed metal latticework all the way to the pointy tip, looked down across the room, and grinned, 'Okay, I'm having fun once again!' I launched into an open-air backflip right off the spire. Plummeting down, I yelled, 'Get ready!'—then, three-quarters into the drop, thwip! I fired a web line to snag the arched base, whipped into another backflip right off the rebound, and banked across the open shelf. I stuck a crisp three-point slide right onto a leather-bound notebook. Zero wobble: absolute perfect ten!