 What happened to Les when he held the eyeball from the detective kit?
When he slid under the table containing the drinks, Miss Pringle, who sold millinery, had screamed: "He'll drown!" One out of every three dirty stories started by party attendees had remained unfinished, because each had reminded someone else of another story. The recently developed liquors which affected the bloodstream three times faster had driven away twinges of conscience about untrimmed trees and midnight church services. "It's all in the spirit of good, clean fun!" cried Mr. Hawkins, the assistant general manager. Mr. Hawkins himself, acting by reflex, attempted to return the portrait to its place until new glass could be obtained. "We'd better put old H. H. away for safekeeping until after the holiday," he told a small, blonde salesclerk who was beneath his attention on any working day. A yellowed envelope slipped to the floor as the picture came free. Hawkins rolled the picture like a scroll and put it into a desk drawer, for later attention. To hear more of it, he said to her: "I'll bet that's been in there ever since the picture was framed. Mr. Hawkins downed the rest of his drink and pulled a batch of keys from his pocket. She found scissors in her sewing box, tossed a cushion onto the floor, sat on it, and began to open the parcel. The twine sprang away from the carton as if it were alive. Instead, she tossed the wrappings aside and removed the lid from the carton. A triangular trio of jacks stuck out from one end. The bottom of the carton contained the detective outfit that they had ordered for their son. Ann glanced at its glaringly lithographed cover and said: "Les, about Sally. Les kicked the hassock into the hall closet, tossed the manky in after it and shut the door firmly. The wedding band that Les had put there a dozen years ago was a brilliant green, shedding its soft glow over the finger up to the first knuckle. She opened her mouth to let it out, then put her hand in front of her mouth to keep it in, finally jerked the hand away to prevent the glowing ring from turning her front teeth green. I'll tie a paperweight to Sally's dress and that'll hold her down until we undress her. She put her hands behind her back, pulled off her ring and slipped it into her apron pocket. She kept her eyes determinedly off the tinge of green that was showing through the apron pocket and didn't dare look back at her daughter's unsettling means of propulsion.
 It caused him to leave black finger-marks on everything he touched.
 It caused him to leave black finger-marks on everything he touched.  It left his hands sticky even after repeatedly washing.  It burned his hands.  His hands started to turn bright green.