I am a shoe made from a fragile mold, More delicate than silver, more brilliant than gold. I left my twin at a midnight ball, And caused a great hunt for the fairest of all.

I have a sharp mind, but no brain to think. I can make a smoothie, but I never drink. What am I?

Short and full of heat, Nothing else here to beat. I'm member of brewery, So anyone else can be lucky to pour me.

I sit above kings, yet I rule no land, I am worn by the mighty, the meek and the Wild, But never by a soldier, servant or child. What am I?

It’s above the sewer, If you remove the last letter. You could call it Gouda-er, But sounds much better. You could even ask Shredder.