Short Stories

I'm alright, don't worry. Just a little bit short on time

One day, a Quill decided to go for a walk.

Soon, The Quill came upon a Sheet of Paper. The Sheet of Paper was looking quite down, it's surface was crumpled, and the page looked saggy.

"What's the matter?" Asked the Quill.

"I am blank." Said the Sheet of Paper. "The idiot writer that was supposed to write on me ran off somewhere that way." It tried motioning mournfully somewhere towards the left, but as it had no limbs, it decided it wasn't worth the trouble. "And now, I will never be written on." The Sheet of Paper sighed.

"Well," said the Quill, ruffling itself (which is the equivalent, for a quill, of ruffling it's feather), "well, a quill is quite handy in a situation like this. Do you think I could help?"

"I suppose." The Sheet of Paper pondered this. "But the last quill to come along simply laughed at me."

"Where is this quill?" The Quill asked.

"Somewhere over there." The Sheet of Paper said, designating a quill on the far side of the desk.

The Quill marched up to the Other Quill and beat it up, then pushed it off the desk.

"There," said the Quill, coming back, "so, would you like to write a story with me now?"

"Well, yes. Perhaps I was being foolish." The Sheet of Paper answered, brightening on the spot. "But where will we get the ink?"

"Well, do you know anyplace we could get a squid?"

"The squid tank."

There was a squid tank on the desk.

The Quill went to the squid tank, pulled out a squid, and killed it.

After retrieving the ink pouch, the Quill dipped itself into the ink and wrote the worst story in existence with 328 words and 1786 characters. It was quite a train wreck, since the Quill wrote it all in less than one day, but everyone was quite satisfied. Except, perhaps, for the Other Quill, the squid, and whoever is reading this.