The Butter-Knife's Story

The spoon slide around the saucer stopping next to the fork. He could see that the fork had seen plenty of wear. He listened carefully for some time, to make sure that the host really was in his bedroom sleeping. Just an hour ago, he'd burst in through the door and rushed to the table to lay a mug down. Standing there for some time, he murmured enthusiastically about how well his collection was going before his energy was depleted and his eyelids began forcing themselves shut. Hearing nothing but the host's breathing, he whispered to the fork "Are you alright?"

The saucer shuddered at the idea of being... tickled! By a great beard! Human mouths were filthy! It was so thankful that it wasn't a fork or spoon, so that it wouldn't have to be shoved inside those wet, disgusting orifices several times a day. Though it was rather impressed by the beer mug's, er, martial prowess. This cup was no pushover, not like the mild spoon or the theatrical butter knife.

The saucer shrank slightly at the mention of department store gossip, which cut it deep, for the statement was very true. It had never had any proper experience with a human, after all, aside from being gifted, and all these other objects had. Still, it wasn't about to let that show. This was its first day here, and even if it wasn't the most wordly it had to show everytool that it was still a viable candidate for king of the table. "Say that again, I dare you!" It angrily hopped up and down, clank clank clank. "I bet you anything you'll be the first one to crack!" it said, referring to the host's intention of getting them all to speak to him, which by now was getting quite clear. Its voice carried to the other utensils. "You'll be the one that exposes us all!"