Citizens of Sapience,

Regrettably, My latest plaything, once known for her shine and shriek, has snapped under Divine pressure and scuttled off to Targossas for repairs.

Therefore, applications are now open for a replacement.
Requirements include:

An ability to survive light teasing and occasional enlightenment.

A flexible spine, both literal and moral.

A sense of humour that can withstand divine-grade absurdity.

A distaste for cheese.

Must enjoy lovable and hilarious mimes.

Perks include:

Proximity to Me (which should be reward enough).

Frequent exposure to Chaos in its most charming form.

A generous allowance of existential dread.

Interested mortals, Demigods, or particularly bold barnacles may apply by simply doing something interesting in My presence. Impress Me, entertain Me, confuse Me. Failure to do so will result in instant replacement by a pigeon.

Pandora,
The Wayward Heir, currently accepting auditions.

Penned by My hand on the 12th of Ero, in the year 988 AF.