Pencil: You know, I'm really sorry.


Eraser: For what? You didn't do anything wrong.


Pencil: I'm sorry, 'cause you get hurt because of me. Whenever I make a mistake, you're always there to erase it. But as you make my mistakes vanish, you lose a part of yourself. You get smaller and smaller every time.


Eraser: That's true, but I don't really mind. You see, I was made to do this. I was made to help you whenever you do something wrong. Even thoug, one of these days, I know I'll be gone and you have to replace me with a new one, I'm actually happy with my job. So please, stop worrying. I hate seeying you sad...