Kevin stretches a little, but he's mostly watching where the conference table is going. It's more habit and nerves than necessity. Then, without hesitating, he steps out.

"Hey ugly! Your momma was a park bench!" he shouts at it. The table turns, baring splintery wooden fangs, and lunges. Kevin takes off and it comes barreling past the open door without a care to spare for whether or not anybody's in the room still.