They all want it because it's so lovely, my lovely precious thing. Eyes try and look at it from all angles, but they never see due to its eye proof protective case. It is a private matter that of the precious thing, and I shout and scream at those who ask what is that in my pocket or if they can see inside the box or come inside my home. For having a look never only means to see with the eyes, they want to touch it with their hands, and see how it looks in their hair, and turn it on and put in on coffee tables and play it in VCRs and record players and eat it with some sauce. Here in my hand it is safe from all those interferences. I keep a firm grip. I stroke it - but not too much. Precious thing is delicate and my unworthy fingers erode its shiny surface with excited sweat. It's useful. The precious thing has many uses, around the house, helping out with this and that. Oh what a shit life to be without a precious thing of your own! I stare at it for hours as it shines back. I forget to eat, and neglect to sleep, so long do my looking sessions last. I lose weight and my eyes droop around my cheeks. Day after day admiring the precious thing with all its little lights going bleep, bleep on and off. Bang! Bang! Scary dreams of intruders stealing and hitting the precious thing hard off the table, over and over again. Standing on it and saying it's rubbish. My tears don't make any difference as I retch in the corner. The nasty evil men laugh and smash it to pieces and make a poo on the remains. But these are only dreams and I am safe when I wake up, hugging my precious thing tight inside it's special protective, snap shut case. I know he wants it, that man over there. He doesn't know what it is, but he can tell it's a special cherished thing of infinite value. He turns away and starts talking to his wife, making a plan to snatch it from me and run away laughing at me when I cry and tell the police. His wife eats her soup and talks about my precious thing too. But it's more precious than his wife. Does she dare think her value comes anywhere near this thing in my hand, this wonderfully precious lovely thing? Does she? STUPID WIFE! She knows NOTHING, the stupid wife! I hold it close and snap my teeth at those who come near. The man and his wife stand up and leave through the other door, the danger passes for now. I talk to the precious thing, laughing at it's jokes. It is a very funny precious thing, and so nice. How nice it is! Inside it's dust proof snapping case.