Butler- Tossing Juliet

“We need to shut that guy up,” shouted Butler over the rising
hubbub of mesmerized moaning. “Can you reach the screen?”
Juliet squinted, measuring the distance. “I can reach the gantry if
you give me a little height.”
Butler patted one of his broad shoulders. “Climb aboard, little
sister.”
“Just a sec,” said Juliet, dispatching a bearded cowboy with a
roundhouse kick. She climbed up Butler’s frame with the agility of a
monkey and stood on his shoulders. “Okay, boost me.”
Butler grunted a grunt that any family member could interpret as
Hold on a moment, and with Juliet balanced overhead, he punched one
of the support wrestlers in the windpipe, and swept another’s legs from
under him.
Those two were twins, he realized. And dressed as Tasmanian
devils. This is the strangest fight I have ever been in, and I’ve tangled
with trolls.
“Here we go,” he said to Juliet, sidestepping a man in a hot-dog
costume. Butler wiggled his fingers under her toes.
“Can you lift me?” asked his sister, keeping her balance with the
ease of an Olympic gymnast, which Juliet might have been if she could
have woken up in time for the early morning training sessions.
“Of course I can lift you,” snapped Butler, who might have been an
Olympic weightlifter if he hadn’t been battling goblins in an
underground laboratory when the last trials were on.
He sucked in a breath through his nose, tightened his core, and then
with a burst of explosive power and a growl that would not have
sounded out of place in a Tarzan movie, he thrust his baby sister
straight up toward the twenty-foot-tall metal gantry supporting the
screen and a pair of conical speakers.
...

Juliet hooked two fingers of her left hand around the bottom lip of a
gantry beam and pressed down so hard that she could almost feel her
fingerprints.

- The Atlantis Complex, Chapter 4