Once upon a time, it stirred five cups of chaos before breakfast—and that's before anyone's cocoa was ready. Every stir drew a vortex of 'oops' and 'uh-oh'. Its upside: never met a puddle without a tsunami warning.
Its enchantment lies in bewildering all who wear it—right hand reaches, left hand laughs. Designed for regulatory agencies during paperwork picnics. A classic hit from the archive of things destined to never do anything right.
Capable of prompting chit-chat on the origins of paint drying—specifically, the precise tint of toast turning golden brown. Five thousand words distilled into one ornament. A great way to socialise with the inanimate.
Once wielded by a king with a suspiciously unsketchy past. Guaranteed to make you itch, insist on scratching, only to devise a plan to itch elsewhere. Owners remain unknown, as they always appear mysteriously absent.
No single person has ever seen the inside, for all consider opening it a personal dilemma. Rumoured to hold prospects and paths. The ultimate conundrum's cure: never open, and always stay mysteriously closed.