Vent Drop of Doom
The air vent groans, gives way, and you plummet downward with a startled yelp. You land — bottom-first — squarely on the head of a cloaked figure creeping through the hallway. There's a satisfying THUNK. He crumples like a bad lasagna.
Agents burst from every door, cheering. 'You got Lord Vexor!' someone screams. You blink, still clutching half a sandwich. Did you?