ummm, I like, couldn't help it?

There's a shiny, transparent blue plastic stapler right in front of me. Next to it is a bright green soda can, standing tall and disinterested. There in an excessively long mouse cord nearby, snaked dangerously close to the stapler's mouth. I'd imagine that if it gets too close, something could go terribly wrong. What if that mouse's tail gets too brave? What if it says something mean to the stapler? Will the shark-like biting take over, or will Little Blue be able to control himself? And what if the mouse tail tickled the stapler's lips and he couldn't help but clamp down by accident?
The shark has see-through skin, and inside of him lays a great maze of mechanisms. He might not know what it's like to love, but he knows he sure is fond of biting. His skin is cool blue; his teeth are dispensable metal slivers, expendable... he does not consider it wasteful to chomp away at whatever's presented to him. He has no mercy. Unlike his distant relative, the automatic stapler, he does need some assistance. But not in his head; to him, it's all a choice. He simply tells the human hand to slam down upon him, and he lets the hand know that he enjoys the pain. For in the cold blow he is dealt, he can turn and deal a cold blow of his own. Justice? No. Our friend the stapler is no martyr, either. But believe me, if it comes down to black and white, this blue stapler is a harsh, heartless biting machine.

and then i heard the sound, the quiet tear of..

they say i'm a wheel of tape. not the packing tape you may have seen in the movies, and not that crazy overzealous silvery tape with the stringy lines running through it. definitely not that yellowy inchwide stuff that only sticks for a couple weeks before it ages and brittles and peels. i'm the friendliest of the all, the pale white scotch tape. sure, i'm inexpensive, but i have good taste. i know the difference between paper and plastic. i can tell when i'm being stuck to something important, too. and i try extra hard to hold it together for you, i do. i always try hard. but today, nobody here really needs me. not yet, anyway. the paperclips must be doing a fine job so far this morning, because here i am, alone and quiet in the corner, right under a huge silver mon-it-er. my body is black, hardened plastic. i hold on in the front like i'm riding a whale. i even have metal teeth, and that's what i stretch my arm out to hold on to. i'm getting low these days, and my energy runs thin. i anticipate another good week before i pass from this body and get replaced by a distant relative, maybe from the same tribe. i'm like a crab, only i don't grow bigger into new bodies, i just fade away and leave my body for someone new. i'm not fretting about it though, not yet. right now i just feel peaceful. the house that i live in, they call it hell. but i know better than that. that's just people-talk for "i don't like my job". i don't have a job. i mean, i purely exist to function, so i guess that IS my job. but it is also my destiny. it is what i was made to do. i was made to stick for you. it pleases me to please you. go ahead, use me. i won't be angry. i am here to serve.
today is a quiet day. the hell-dwellers haven't gotten too noisy yet. but you ought to hear some of the things they say! my. the things i hear throughout a day. when i first got to this body, it had already been used. i could tell because they'd left a sticker on my right side. it is worn and frayed on the edges and it's no match for its former white self. now it is withered gray, with someone's bad penmanship, "cursive" that reads "Film Library" across the side. one might describe it as "scrawled", i believe that's the term. anyway, it makes me feel like less of a tape dispenser. but i know it's trivial. it doesn't really change the way i help people.
today is a good day. just look at the way my skin is frosted in the daylight. no actual sunlight ever hits me, but i can tell it exists. i am calm. i am calm..