come home, sexy stapler

Once upon a time, I had a pair of scissors and a stapler, which was a very nice arrangement. And then one day, by some miracle, two more pairs of scissors showed up on my desk and happily joined our growing family. Shortly, it occurred to me that they might have been missing their old homes, so I returned them to the staff room with a note, much like the baby-in-the-basket-at-the-doorstep trick. Upon returning from my good deed, I made the ironic discovery that both my own scissors AND my stapler had disappeared (perhaps they ran away in a rebellious act against my returning their new friends, miracle scissor 1 and 2, to their old homes?) I have since appropriated a spare pair of scissors from the staff room, which are not my own but I have faith that they will do the job as well as my last pair (let me know if they are yours, I'll happily return them). But I am still missing my stapler. Please let me know if you've seen him-- he's black, kinda old, a little on the chunky side, but I love him just the same. And I miss him.