Kah-Boom. It was louder and more final than he expected it would be. Afterward there was only the silence of conclusion. There should be more. 
Imagination was his gift from early childhood. Occasionally he let his mind run free, but today he took the trip into practical reality. In retrospect, he should have been content with ignorance. What caused paint to spray from a can really did not matter.
Blue. It was a rich, dark, metallic color he had chosen to paint his bicycle. Yesterday was a fine day. His bicycle looked new. Spokes sparkled. Chrome reflected the light from the sun. His pride grew as he cleaned the garage around his trophy.
The paint can could have been easily thrown away... but the empty rattle grabbed him like a trap. What was inside this seemingly empty can?
His father’s fishing knife was there. He could pierce the metal that guarded the secret.
As you can not un-ring a bell, you can not hide the explosive result of paint in a garage. 