Big, small, long, short, regardless of the shape what’s inside of me is the same, yet it’s always different. I can take you around the world, yet I can’t move. I’m silent until I open up, then my word knows no boundaries.

Turtle, Turtle, Ninja Turtle. The ceiling has my greatest signature, orange masked creature. Marble and stone obey my hand, Sculptures and frescoes across the land.

Whatever isn't beneath us. Is that not the answer? No? Then what was the question?

My mother had little negativity; my father, a lot. They had individual toxicity, but together, did not. They taught me the right and wrong way to be, but little is more brittle than me. What am I?

If 'on the rocks' was all alone Or scales aloft by Lady shown A League for me will proudly stand I'm served or taken in your hands