“That knife was pretty sharp. Was he hurt?”

“Hurt! He was stabbed.” 

“How deep was the wound?”

“Deep? It went right up to the second ‘f’ in Sheffield.”

Bad people do bad things. Bad knives do bad things too. There are hacked fingers, missing nails and countless soft flesh wounds as a result. Dull steel does damage. I wince at the memory of that awful feeling of the cooks knife slipping off the edge of an onion and into the top of my index finger.