What goes up falls quickly down, moves side to side and all around. A string holds me tight when given a throw, around the world or walking below. Back to your hand I always return, the better your tricks, the more crowds will yearn.

I dig deep without a mouth, I move earth but have no hands, My handle guides my task.

Something an American is more likely to ask for than is a European. A rapper, an actor and a pitchman The first is a winter hazard, the second a Platonic solid

I require a house that you build in minutes and pack into a bag. I offer a ceiling with a billion lights, but no switches to turn them off. I bring you closer to streams, trees, and wildlife, yet my name ends with an -ing. What am I?

OH NO, I DROPPED MY TUBE OF TOOTHPASTE, Tom said, ...