The cleaner the floor, the dirtier I am The dryer the floor, the wetter I am I can be sponge or cloth I can have a wooden or plastic handle What am I

I need to build something with these nails and boards... Better watch my fingers!

Ok, crime fighters, tell me Why did the belt go to jail.

Leave bread too long and I may grow, yet molten metal may use me so. In one form living, in one form not, yet both share a name, believe it or not.

I am a green-eyed monster born from another’s success, turning admiration into bitter distress. I am the silent thief of joy that lives inside your mind, keeping you blind to the treasures you already possess. What am I?