“Please, can I touch it, just once?”
Timmy’s father shook his head gravely.
“It must’nt ever be opened. To avoid temptation, you mustn’t touch it.”
Timmy kept staring.
“Pay it no mind. We must guard it, but we needn’t stare at it.”
His father slept. Timmy stared at it, then touched it.
Open me!
The voice was so beautiful he couldn’t resist it. He flipped the lid off of the Pandoringles cylinder. A hollow echo sounded as potato crisps of burdensome labor, ill, and disease escaped.
His father awoke.
“What have you done! Once you pop, the evil don’t stop!”
