The objective is to have The Piggy in your hand when the alarm goes off at the end. You will stop at nothing to gain possession of it.

Of course, if you’ve ever gotten a surprise package, you can imagine how puzzled and excited Milo was; and if you’ve never gotten one, pay close attention, because someday you might.

Today’s news in oddities: Neil “The Divine Comedy” Hannon is going to be writing a stage musical based on Swallows and Amazons. I await very witty songs based on the premise that you can say “Able Seaman Roger” and “First Mate Titty” aloud without sniggering.

We’re at roughly 27 hours to Harry Potter madness, which will mean, among other things, that we’ll never again have to experience Washington Post thumbsuckers about how mass cultural phenomena surrounding children’s books are bad for literacy. For the next few hours, all the Weasleys, Neville Longbottom, and Draco Malfoy are all still alive, we don’t know where the last horcrux is, and we can imagine that somehow J.K. Rowling will make the frigging house-elves not seem like a total waste of everyone’s time. And Snape is in a quiet Schrödingerian box: neither good nor bad until publication makes him so.

Complaints and praise for Mr. Potter’s final adventure go here. Spoil like the wind.