Last January during the annual Fruitcake run I gigged a specimen from 'that catalog.' You know the one, they are in upstate Maine and sell old fashioned colognes so you have flashbacks of your crazy aunt who wore them, 6 pieces of maple syrup candy @ $30 and marzipan.
It sat maturing in the cheap brandy I bought closeout at the local drugstore.I finally decided to pack some in my kit and unwrapped it fully.
This brick is a pallinologist's nightmare! There are fruits and nuts that predate Gregor Mendle and defy even rudimetary identification.
So I pulled out one of my wooden, redhandled, engineer's nightmare MORAS and stabbed the fruitcake with all the might of RichardIII during his fabled meeting with Saladin. To it's credit, the knife penetrated almost to the nickle bolster.
I tried to slice the fruitcake. The MORA remained in situ, as in stuck. I had visions of T.S. White and the Sword in the Stone and it refused to budge. I eventually wound up holding on in a death grip as I pushed against the fruitcake with both CORCORAN paratrooper boots. After several tries I saw the fruitcake fly off, leaving a dent in the drywall.
The MORA blade was STILL embedded in the cake. I was holding the now seperated handle.My APT maintenance man manged to finally free it with a sawzall, though I had to replace the brand new blade.
I managed to epoxy the now damascened blade back into the handle, now with a 15 degree bend to the right. This GOTH girl saw it and pleaded to buy it. I sold it to her, for the price of TWO moras. The things are like coat hangers and rabbits.Leave them alone and they multiply. That, or just have a standing order in with Ragnar.