The wombat and the box that must not be opened
I'm reading Digger, and just reached the part (about halfway through; p. 451 of the Omnibus edition, p. 491 of the webcomic) when the mysterious, masked Trader Manuel shows up, and speaks in a dark, mysterious, portentous way about nameless cults and cartographers going mad and such. And then the following exchange ensues, between the trader and the eminently practical and sensible wombat protagonist, Digger:
Trader Manuel: Tell me, wombat—if I gave you a box and told you that it must not be opened, ever, under any circumstances, what would you do?
Digger: Hmmm... Encase it in concrete, probably. Actually, I'd encase it in lead first, if the box materials could take the heat, then in concrete. Then I'd put it in the foundations of a useful public works project. Something they wouldn't be digging up again in a hurry. Grain storage, or mole dung composting... I'd have to check and see what was available... How big a box are we talking about, anyway?
I dunno, maybe you had to be there, but that exchange made me laugh a lot.