I am a string instrument. Add me to the worst grade in the American system, and you'll get an instrument of a different family.

I shimmer and shine in the holiday glow, catching each twinkle like fresh-fallen snow. I’m hung on the branches in a silver disguise, and mimic the frost with a glittering guise.

Fraud at the front and filth at the back, Yet I'm the foe of dirt and plaque. With suds I rise, and with scents I woo, Among bubbles and foam, I'm clean, I'm who?

I can't help you with pirated games or software, though my name might suggest otherwise. But I can help you if you're hungry!

Be round and eight inches high. Can ignite an intimacy desire. Drips white hot mess, depend on the design. Shorten after, is a normal sight