I can’t imagine a giant pencil attacking anything. Holy Crap it’s real. The city of Genericville is being destroyed… and the pencil is grinning. I fear it. It’s like a big game of chess, only it’s bloodthirsty and cruel and deadly and… so kinda like chess, yes. I used to have an old chess book that had the queen wielding an ax, running toward the king, yelling, “Off with its head, off with its head!” I’d be scared at that. Fearful. Death doesn’t really suit me. I’m afraid to die. Does it hurt? Would being cleaved with the head of a giant pencil hurt? It probably would for a while, until I lost enough blood. Then I’d close my eyes, and fall asleep forever. I wonder who would miss me. Some of my friends. I wish I could see them if I died. Just to know where their true feeling lay. I hope I’m not hated. Or undeservedly loved, like Michael Jackson. But I probably shouldn’t talk about him, it’s too cliché. I just had to go look up the Alt-Code for the accented E. I really should know that by now. Off to tag.