I left the house without taking an antihistamine this morning. In dire need I turned to my partner and asked if she might have one in her tiny handbag. What happened next was the unfolding of the mysteries and wonders of a bag of holding unlike anything I've seen before. New secret pockets were unzipped and explored, while my wife continually muttered under her breath "this is not even my final form" over and over like some arcane incantation to release demonic seals binding the void to her will as a reliquary to hide her menagerie of oddities.

Dear readers, we found them. They were in an L-space pocket dimension hidden in a fold along with some lip gloss and the soul shard of a vanquished internet troll.