Ernie the Eraser

Once upon a time there was a little pink eraser named Ernie. Every day, Ernie was picked up and used to erase things. But Ernie, being quite the odd little eraser, did not like such an unhappy job as erasing. He wanted to be creative not destructive.

Ernie was very confused about this. He didnt understand why he was an eraser when he didnt like to erase, and he didnt know how to go about changing who he was, or even if he should. what ernie really needed was some good advice.

and so, he decided to climb the mountain of illegal, shredded, documents to seek the help of the great guru (who liked to live in isolation, as do all great gurus), the mechanical pencil. The pencil had done a lot in his day to make himself known. He'd re-clicked many old leads and replaced many worn down erasers. Ernie thought that maybe he could be put to a job where he could be more useful, such as a rubber casing on a wire. However, when he asked the great guru to replace him, the great guru said "I cannot, for I only know how to replace mechanical pencil erasers. They come nicely packaged for me to replace them." This deeply disheartened ernie, because he was lost and unsure of how to become something else.

so earnie set out again. this time across the great and wide ink blotter. there were many rips and tears to cross and doodles to avoid in this great expanse, but it had to be done if he was ever to find a way to become a creator and not a pink destroyer. what he sought across the great expanse of ink blotter, he knew not. he only knew that it had to be better than his earasing fate now.

soon, ernie reached his destination, in the darkest corner of the desk - the stamp pad. he had only heard stories about this place, where your wishes would be granted, but for a price. since ernie had already tried asking the almighty mechanical pencil, he figured that all that was left to do was to seek out the unknown regions of the stamp pad. ernie apprihensively approached the pad, and addressed it with a shaking voice.

"H-h-h-hello?" Said Ernie in the meakist rubbery voice ever spoken. "WHO GOES THERE?" boomed a great voice that seemed to echo and reverbarate to the very corners of the desk. "I-i-it i-is I, " squeaked Ernie, "Ernie, th-th-the era-a-a-aser." Poor Ernie was quaking in his little rubber boots (which he had bought for this very journey).

...for there are great swamps of whiteout to cross on the perilous journey to the stamp pad that required the use of his trusty rubber boots) "WHY HAVE YOU SOUGHT MY COUNSELING??" thundered the voice. "I-I, w-well I - sometimes, well, most of the time, I am used to erase things and -" "YOU ARE AN ERASER, ARE YOU NOT??" "Y-yes, yes, I am, I am. But, y-you see, the thing is, well, its just that-" ernie stammered. "WHAT IS IT??" the voice questioned with growing impatience. "I-dont-wanna-erase-i-wanna-do-something-more-productive" ernie said very quickly, before he lost his nerve. the stamp pad was quiet for a moment, and then seemed ready to speak again.

and then Ernie was suddenly set a blaze and died

or not depending on how you want the story to end

or not depending on how you want the story to end