Henry was fighting a losing battle. He grappled and pulled, but could gain no ground. The damned sheet had him locked in a bitter stalemate. It had caught him unawares and grabbed a death grip on his claw, and would not let go. Tug as much as he could, neither he not the sheet seemed to be tipping the scales. After several minutes he found that he could no longer keep his eyes open, or his feet underneath him.
Eyes narrow with suspicion and frustration, Henry had to grant the sheet it's due.
"You win this round, sheet. I'm going to just sit down here for a second - yaaaawn - and think about how I can get my - yaaawn - sweet... revenge.
And with that he fell blissfully off to sleep.
This is a dramatized version of what I can only imagine happened. By the time I found him, he was as you see him; hooked into the sheet by his second claw, and completely unconscious.
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