There we go, I think we're about 2500 miles from the Earth's core. Should be stumbling across that Dark Matter any day now.
Well, welcome to the dig site. It's as good a place as any to ask about titanium and lead. I'm not crazy about this "paper" you speak of. Sounds waif-y. I'd try to set it on fire, see what happens. That's a rule of thumb in my house, if it doesn't burn when held over a flame, it can stay. Does not apply to my smokes. And I don't see the word "cave-dweller" as a negative connotation.
To get any sort of titanium into a pencil, you'll need to get a diamond tipped rotary saw and four dozen blind field mice. Have the mice lead (no pun intended) you into their hidden underground kingdom and barter with the King Rat for a wheel of aged sharp cheddar. He's a bashful fella, so don't try holding him over the coals, he'll just as soon eat through a dozen of crates in your attic and make a nest out of your previously mint condition full set of 1984 Fleer Diamond Club MLB trading cards. Trust me.
Once you have the wheel of cheddar, cut a few fleur-de-lis patterns on the "long side" with the diamond tipped saw. If you need practice, make a few practice cuts on the hood of your car. It won't feel much different than cutting up some cheddar with those diamond tips.
The fleur-de-lis are of course the calling card of those who have mastered the dark arts (with the exception of Jon Stamos, that guy is 100% invincible [there Jon, I've mentioned you, will you quit living in my rhododendron bush?]) and the cheddar cheese wheel will allow you passage through the rat chambers.
When you get past the rat kingdom, start lighting large paper fires to smoke out any lingering mice. The smoke should make your eyes burn, if it doesn't you are a harbinger of the apocalypse.
As the master of the dark arts welcome you and your cheese wheel, salute them with the "once around and double back, in my sock and up the stack". Reach down between your legs, tie your shoe laces together, attempt a back flip from the kneeling position and land on your neck, making a sock fall off and your nose bleed. They will respect this, though their cloaks may smell otherwise.
Within their left cloak pocket, is a tiny cylinder of titanium. Kiss their wretched, filthy boots, once on each toe and they will transmit a lifetime supply of titanium into your lead pencil.
Source(s):
You think Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker was a mockumentary? Think again.
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