One morning, Morris and I were in the hay barn practicing throwing our knives into a bale of hay. I had my German-made sheath knife I just bought and Morris had his Puma white hunter that he had bought while still living in England.
"Watch this!" I said to Morris as I threw my knife towards the bale. As the knife slid out of my hand it put a reasonably large cut on the base of my thumb.
"Oh shit!" I said.
Morris said, "What happened Yorky?"
"I just sliced my bloody thumb!"
Right at that moment Defoe walked into the barn.
"What are you two bludging bastards doing?" He said as he strode towards us.
"I'm just practicing throwing my knife." I said, as blood was dripping out of my thumb.
"Jesus Christ!", said Defoe as he looked down and saw my thumb. "What are you trying to do Yorky mate, cut your bloody thumb off?"
"No Bill." I said as I wiped my thumb on my work pants.
"It's pretty bloody obvious you two pommy bastards don't know what you are doing." said Defoe.
He turned to Morris and said, "Show me that bloody knife. God Streuth Morris, where did you get this Puma?"
"I bought it in England a couple of years ago."
"Jesus mate, this must have set you back a bloody fortune!"
It wasn't cheap." said Morris. "I had to save up for ages till I had the money."
All of a sudden, Defoe spun round and threw the knife at the bale of hay. It stuck in the hay, almost up to the hilt. I was stunned that he stuck the knife on his first throw.
"How did you do that?" said Morris.
"Well it's bloody easy when you know how, right. It's the same as everything else in life. Go get the knife Yorky and I'll teach you two bastards the basics of knife-throwing."
I retrieved the knife and handed it to Defoe.
"First of all, you never throw a knife like you did Yorky or you'll cut your bloody hand every time. You hold your hand like this and put the knife there like that with the blade sticking outwards, that way you don't get cut. Get out of the bloody way Morris."
Defoe stepped up to the line that we had made with our boot on the ground.
"The idea is, the knife is only supposed to spin once."
With that, he threw the knife at the hay bale and it stuck again.
"Pick up that empty fag packet Yorky and fasten it under the string on that bale."
After I had done this, Defoe hurled the knife again. The knife stuck right in the middle of the empty fag packet.
"You're pretty good with that knife Bill." said Morris.
"Practice Mate!" Defoe said as he hurled the knife again.
Defoe gave Morris his knife back and said to him, "Look after that knife mate, she's a bloody beaut!".
"Hey Bill, try mine will ya? I said. "Mine doesn't want to stick in the bale."
"It's not the knife's fault." said Defoe as he took my knife and hurled it towards the bale. It stuck in the bale the same as Morris's knife did.
"Nothing wrong with that knife." said Defoe as he handed the knife back to me.
"Alright you two, put those bloody knives away now. We got a lot of work to do today." he said, as he strode out of the barn.
As he walked away, I heard him yell at the top of his voice, "Dave, come here ya curly-headed pufta'! I got a fuckin' job for you mate. C'mon get a bloody move on."
Morris and I put our sheath knives away and were ready for another days work.