I’ve got six pockets Four legs. And Sixteen balls that like to get smacked.

I am a quarter of a feeling, but four fifths of irony. I'm a part of your breakfast, just not the darjeeling, when it doubt, suss me out, with equine polarity.

Do you know what it's called when an old person calls you? No? Don't worry; it'll come to you.

A familiar sight in locker rooms and forbidden doors, or maybe even a bridge in France, if you're so inclined? A valient guard thay has been around for centuries! And in its jaws, with a clean snap, you can feel assured that your treasure is well secured. Unless, of course, something with bigger teeth comes by to bite through iron bone...

Creak creak, is all one may hear, sans lube I'm a feared.