You couldn't just make Olly sit down in front of a sheet and tell him he wasn't allowed to look under it. That was just mean. It was practically torture. Sure, he wouldn't look under it because that's what the rules said and he didn't want to get in trouble. But he wanted to really bad. And he was dying. He leaned real close and rest his head on his hands. His eyes were fixed on the sheet and he wasn't likely to stop staring anytime soon. Not until the mysterious contents were revealed.