The first piñata I made was for a Star Wars themed birthday party. I barely knew what a piñata was, much less knew how they were supposed to be made, but figured making something that could be smashed open couldn't be hard. I cut out a bunch of hexagons and pentagons out of thick cardboard and assembled a truncated icosahedron with the help of lots of masking tape. Unsure whether that would be sufficiently strong to withstand the depredations of a pack of armed and enthusiastic eight-year olds, I papier-mached the outside, spray painted it grey and hung it from a tree as the Death Star. The Jedi younglings swung at it with gusto and barely scratched the surface. We equipped them with ever heavier weaponry, and it finally took sustained beating with a heavy broomstick until they were all nearly exhausted, whereupon it split slightly; frenzied tearing and kicking eventually freed the candy. This mayhem was all so much fun that nearly-indestructible, geometrical piñata have become a feature of our kids' birthday parties. An octopus with a cuboctahedral head for a pool party... a big top tent made of a capped hexagonal prism for a circus party... you get the picture. This year, I made another truncated icosahedron (aka buckyball aka C60 aka soccer ball), this time extended with another five hexagons (to mimic another allotrope of carbon, C70), as a dragon's egg for my son's Harry Potter themed party.