"What?" it protests. "It's not my fault that the teleporting community forgot to teleport me to the right places! In fact, they were so late on remembering that I missed Red Pen Inc's lunchtime and came to yours instead! And did you show any mercy or compassion? No."
You stare at it. Did that pen just speak?
"And, what's more," it keeps going, oblivious to your stares, "I had my mum pack my speciality on that day! Red ink!"
"Oh, so that's why sometimes my pen mixes in with different colours..." you murmur.
"Yes, you're absolutely right. We come from a poor family, you see, so we can't afford red ink. We usually go hungry, and that's when I start running low on ink. Mummy sent me to work early to earn money for the family, that's why I'm called a Mini-pen. Anyway, it isn't my fault I was born a red pen, one of the hardest to feed. My mum scolds me all the time because of that and - "
"Wait wait," you interrupt. "Are you saying there are families of pens living out there?"
"Whole trees of them!" your pen exclaims enthusiastically.
You start to feel woozy...