Didn’t know the two headed guy (zaphod?) in HHGTTG had three arms.
He had the third one grafted on to help with his ski-boxing.
The best part is, even though I knew it was inevitable, it was still hilarious. Only on the SDMB can we easily predict the tenor of the obvious response and nevertheless rely upon it to be funny. 
As a suggestion for the OP, why not spend a few extra pennies and buy the “screw together” pens with the refillable ink? Then, you can keep the inks in a locked cabinet and if someone wants to use a pen (they can still be lying around or in a cup – they’ll just be “empty”), you just go to the cabinet, unlock it, get an ink and put it in the pen! Just remember to ask for the ink back after use. Walla!
Well thanks, Cerv and 2.
But, what i thought was incredibly funny is that Lobs knew the “m” wasn’t going to make it and he still left it that way instead of editing or abbrv a different word. It’s as though he knew what I was going to respond. Talk about mind reading Dopers!
When I signed the lease for my apartment, I asked the manager if I could borrow a pen. She handed me one of your average hard plastic clear-case ball-point pens. Halfway through my signiture, she asked if she could have it back and traded me for a Bic. When I looked at her funny, she explained that it was her favorite pen and “People steal.” I’m still scared of her.
I like the way the local used book store deals with stolen pens. They tape giant fake flowers to the top and wrap them with green tape. From the looks of it, it’s very effective.
After I’d worked at a certain office-supply company for about four years, I realized that I’d never once in that time had the experience of having a pen run dry. Nearly every exchange I had with another employee required that they sign paperwork-- naturally, this also meant that they needed to ‘borrow’ a pen. It was so bad that the supply clerk made intimations that I had some sort of black-market trade in ball-points going, I visited him so frequently.
Eventually, I made up a bunch of little labels, which had “A Curse Upon the Regenerative Organs of the One Who Steals This Pen,” in tiny, just barely legible, type and affixed them to the tops, under the pocket-clip. After that, the pens usually found their way back. “Um, this is your pen, isn’t it, Larry?”
I wonder how they knew?