“No. You buried your knife in my stomach, which means it’s mine now.”
“I really didn’t want to have to hurt you.”
“Next time I won’t miss on purpose, so choose your words carefully.”
“Did I not warn you to never cross me again?”
“You’re the one with a blade at my throat, so obviously you’re upset.”
“I get that you’re angry, but is it really necessary to bring weapons into this?”
“That could have killed me!”
“If I wanted you dead, this room would be a lot quieter.”
“I’m not trying to kill you, I just wanted to get your attention.”
“It’s kinda hard to concentrate when you can slice open my stomach at any second.”
“Please don’t stab me with that thing; I’ll get tetanus if I survive!”
“I’ll drop the weapon if you drop the phone.”
“Is-is that a real sword? Do you even know how to use it?”
“If I get nervous I start stabbing things, so no sudden movements, please.”
“Yes, I know how to use this, so I’d be a lot more polite if I were you.”
“So this is why you’re not allowed near sharp pointy objects.”
“I’m supposed to be afraid of a bread knife? It’s not even that sharp!”
“You have about a minute to convince me not to bury this in your heart.”
“I’m the one with the knife, which means I’m the one who gets to ask the questions.”
“That’s not a toy, put it down!”
