As he was about to walk out the door he remembered something. Walking back to the table he found the paper that had come with the pen. Written on the paper as plain as day, whatever will be struck out will be canceled. A simple test to see if he could undue this one small change to himself. Moving a lock of his hair into his line of sight he hovered the pen over the written words. Placing the tip of the pen on the page he strikes out the two sentences he had written so far. As he did so the blond lock of hair changed from blond back to it's original chestnut brown.
Putting the pen down you go to the bathroom mirror you confirm that your hair has indeed changed back to normal. You breath a sigh of relief as you realize that any mistakes you can undo any mistakes you make in the future. Then again do you really want to use the pen? Going back to your room you pick up the pen and look it over. Examining it from end to end you confirm it looks like any normal fountain pen. No markings, inscriptions, nothing that would have it strike out as unordinary.
What you hold in your hand maybe a fountain pen, but it was an instrument that made the one who wielded it a god essentially. Any words put on the page would become true, from the wildest fantasies to the most disturbing of fetishes would become real. He could cause the human race to turn into anthro furries, turn all women into lust crazed bimbos, he could even make himself the sole male on earth and everyone else a member of the ultimate harem in existence.
There was also the other half of the pen, the ability to cancel anything struck out by the pen. While he knew he could undo anything he wrote, what about what others wrote? Could he rewrite history by striking out anything he didn't like? If he struck out words from works of fiction, would he essentially be rewriting someone else's work? Could he turn those rewritten works into realities as well?
His head began to swim at this rush of thoughts. Here he was, a 16 year old boy too young to vote or even drink, handed the power of a god. He could do everything and anything he ever wanted. The thought was intoxicating and freighting at the same time. He wasn't sure he wanted to use the pen, much less keep it. Then again, if he ever made a mistake or something he doesn't like happens he could just undo it and fix it. Looking at the pen, weighing his options, he finally decides to …
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