"What are you going to do, kill me? I'd like to see you try, Thomas!" Spat a bald man, obviously toughened up judging by the scar on his face that went with his bald scalp.
"That is my intent, Joseph!" Thomas sneered back with equal ferocity.
"Okay." Joseph put his hand behind his back and pulled out a pistol. "This should be interesting to watch. You don't even have a gun, only a silly little knife."
"This silly little knife has killed more people than you can imagine. It represents more than you and your pathetic gun can ever comprehend."
"Fine. Enlighten me. Show me the glory of your old decrepit Bowie Knife." Joseph challenged.
"This knife represents courage." Thomas explained as he was transported to twenty years earlier. He remembered meeting the abusive husband of the woman he would marry. He heard his future wife whisper the word help desperately. He remembered the husband's dead body, the knife in his wife's shaky hand.
"This knife represents love." Suddenly, he was at a diner with his fiancée across from him. The knife's outline was visible in a compartment hidden in his jacket.
"This knife represents remorse." His eyes went blank once more as he flashed back to the past. He saw his bedroom. His wife's dead body laying on the ground. He was sobbing while he held the knife in his hand.
"This knife represents revenge," He thrust the knife into Joseph's heart. "And justice." He was not worried about touching blood, for they shared the exact same blood.
"That was for my wife, you bastard."