That’ll do pig, you’ve bested eager teeth. May son of block in entries in a toon, be quick and neat. Le go for a stack of colors, instruct construction, death to feet. No yellow left to use, a path forged toward a head to greet.

A metal toothy grin that slides, Binds two worlds on either side. With a gentle pull or yank, Keeps your treasures sealed and ranked.

I am a memory made of light, captured once, then held tight. What am I?

Before theory, I might explain everything. Before along, I might mislead you. Before instrument, I might be tucked under a chin. Alone, I’m useful or annoying.

I make blending ingredients easier, and sometimes even hands free. It's also essentially what a dj is.