Number Two Lead

"Did you hear what happened to #2 Pencil?" the pen cap's cold plastic face reflected light from the overhead fan.

"No, what happened?" mechanical pencil turned on his side, leaning against the clear plastic clip.

"Sharpened to a nub, so sad," pen murmured sympathetically.

"Well, it happens to all pencils eventually," mechanical pencil scoffed. It seemed widely unconcerned with the misfortunes of those it consider less than itself.

"Don't be so heartless, how would you feel if I said 'well, it happens to all mechanical pencils at some point' when your user decides to not put more lead it you?" pen snapped. It was fed up with mechanical pencil's attitude towards lesser valued writing utensils. Mechanical pencil always did that.

It talked down to all the pencils, map pencils, and crayons as if it was somehow better than them because he could be refilled and wasn't gone when he ran out of lead. It treated them as though they were serfs and he a noble.

The only things he didn't treat like that was the Sharpie and the other markers.

"Please, I always get filled back up with lead. Think about it pen, at some point you will run out of ink and you will get thrown away, so will everyone, everyone but me," mechanical pencil bragged.

"Yes, it will be just you, all alone," pen muttered to itself.

"Listen you-"mechanical pencil started, no doubt to put pen in his place. Pen was probably the only pen that would let a pencil of any kind, talk down to it.

"No, I have to write, see you later," pen stated emotionlessly as a peach tinted hand came down from above and popped the cap off of pen and pressed it's face against the ivory sheet of paper.

Mechanical pencil huffed as he ascended and then pressed towards a sheet of college ruled note book paper.

"Some things will never learn," they both stated at the same time.