He was a reckless young swine who never gave a piss about nobody but himself. The reason why he never gave a piss about nobody was because he was always too busy thinking of ways that he he could draw on things with his pencils - the wonderful special pencils. He had a fist full of pencils in every eyeful of HB dreams. He used to sleep with a pencil in his ass and brush his teeth with a pencil and paper paste then draw a pencil moustache on his face. Right on his face under his nose the moustache. When the night came he would sit in the park with a pencil between his naked foot toe and a piece of paper on the piss floor. The park piss. He was in his final year of high school. Sure if he made it this guy was out of here. No more secret ass pencils. No more foot piss shit dog park. He would be big time. Pencil time.

He approached his exam room for his final exam. English Literature. He had dreamt of this moment. He was going to make his pencil sing. He was going to dream up a wood graphite shat master. Mr cocksniff waited by the door. He was the last in because that morning he had trouble fishing the pencil out of his ass because his thrashing throughout the night had snapped his ass pencil so he had to bum finger it out. Mr cocksniff snatched the pencil out of his grubby little hand and told him, “no pencils in here, pens for you in there and pencils me out here.” He was handed a Biro and patted on the head by Mr Cocksniff. He sat down at his desk and opened his exam paper. The exam question he read shattered his pencil dreams all over his face and up his ass.

“Why is there no place in the modern world for pencils?”

There was no need for life after this for him. Life was a Shitbox nightmare for him now so he stood up and bent over screaming he put the Biro right into his ass with his thumb and forefinger and tried to fart as hard as he could until the pen exploded right in his ass and he fell into his chair covered in shit. The ink shot up to his brain and he died instantly. The instant before he drew his final breath he smiled and regretted nothing but imagined a world where your stationary beliefs would not get you shot up the ass with lethal death ink.