Arr, beneath the waves where sunlight fades, a metal beast roams the deep. Silent as a ghost, it stalks the sea, unseen but feared by all who sail the briny blue.

What can go up a chimney when down but can't go down a chimney when up?

So many types of me to choose from, you may get choice paralysis. Whichever you pick our smell is quite gruesome, and good luck pooping without butt dialysis.

I sleep inside unfinished dreams, pressed between the printed scenes. No voice, no ink, yet still I guide, what am I that waits inside?

I have keys but no locks, space but no room. You can enter, but you can’t go outside. I help you write and work every day. What am I?