Some drown me in syrup, others put bacon on my head. Some like me thick and fluffy, others want me large and flat.

I guard a secret close to skin, A tiny world that fits within. I open only when you choose, To show the face you fear to lose. I hang in silence, humbly small - What am I, keeper of it all?

As a golden star, I'm a job well done. As a seed, I'm covered in spikes. As a price, I might send you into shock. As food, you might find me in a pot.

I bite down hard without a sound, binding papers tight and bound. With metal teeth I leave my trace, what am I in this office space?

Six hold items to carry, often woven from natural fibers. Four to bounce, wall to wall; the smaller I am, the crazier I am. Put together, you put four into six; do not do math, just hope for a swish.