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May 15, 2007

Dave: A Body Could Cut Himself

The armored figure swung the sword in a wide, whistling arc.  "I bear in my hand the blade Exsanguinous, forged by Roman mystics seven centuries ago, honed by fell spirits to so keen an edge that you will lay in pieces ere you realize you've been cut.  Surrender."

Roger shrugged and pulled a shorter weapon from his pocket.  "All I got's an M1911A1 Colt .45, liberated from Uncle Sam in '46.  It won't cut anything, but it'll blow a hole through the back of your head the size of a baseball."  He smiled, aimed.  "You want to drop it, or should we play this out?"

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