06/06/2006

I stole a pen from the Job centre today. It was only an accident. It was left on the side of the table and I needed a pen to fill in a form, so I took it, and I forgot to replace I and nobody asked for it back, so I walked out with it.

I should probably give it back tomorrow, but I'm loathe to. I can always use another black pen. It feels comfortable in my hand and has a good writing flow. Its incredibly small for a pen, so I can write in the really small boxes in the forms. At first I thought it was because it was a throwing pen, not a combat pen, but it isn't really weighted right for throwing. Maybe its ammunition for a pen launcher?

–

“They stole my fucking pen!” yelled the woman with purple hair and a black suit.

“Test Subject 255? Stole your pen?”

“I left it on the side. They must have taken it while I wasn't looking!”

“While you weren't looking?” said the man, similarly dressed but with a bowler hat, “You were ordered to closely watch the subject and report back anything, and you let them steal your equipment and run off?”

“This isn't funny! It was my new pen! I had to fight hard to get decent equipment”

“You know, they say 'the pen is mightier than the sword'.” said the man, “So technically, you've leaked alien military technology to civilians.”

“Don't you DARE tell the boss!” yelled the woman, “And it wasn't military technology. The military have blue pens. New orders from the boss. We have to have black pens so we don't get our pens mixed up. Or so he can tell the difference between us and the military, or somethi... why alien?”

“Does it really matter? Its a fucking PEN!”

“You know what the boss is like. He rations the paperclips. He colour co-ordinates prisons so he doesn't get the prisoners mixed up. One day I saw him turn into a vam...”

“C'mon, let's get a coffee.”

–

07/06/2006

I went to give the pen back today, but it had already been replaced by two more. Or had regenerated. Or the other pens had mated. Its nice to know they have an endless supply, anyway. I looked on the job points. There was nothing. There never is.

There's something odd about this pen. It isn't just that it writes well. I feel hopeful, an aura of good luck and power. I'm going to write everything important with this pen, like application forms, official documents and pentagrams for Satanic rituals.

… I just realised I walked out with another one. Oops... I thought it was the one I already had, but when I went home, that one was still on the desk. I guess I have a brace of pens now. That means I can legally fight duels with them.

–

“Did you get your pen back?”

“You won't believe this...”

“They weren't there?”

“No, they stole my replacement pen while I was looking for the first pen!”

“You're hopeless! How're you going to explain this to the boss?”

“Aaaargh, don't tell him! He'll take it out of my life energy!”

“Yurka, I don't think he's really a vampire...”

“You wouldn't know! You've never worked the night shift!” she shuddered, “Besides, I have a plan.”

“Does it involve breaking into people's houses? Because you're still under surveillance from the last incident...”

“Don't you understand? Subject 255 stole two pens. They're obviously dangerously obsessed with pens. We can use this to our advantage.” she smiled the manic smile of a caffeine addict, “We're going to lay a little trap. If this goes well, we'll meet our objective a month early!”

“I like the sound of that!”