Dear Mr. Kavanaugh,

I was outside gutting a racoon with my Mora when a crazed man wearing a thong and sandals made from old tires accosted me and took the carcass at knife-point. I think it was a Cold Steel Master Tanto. He slit the laces in my shoes so I couldn't give chase. He also relieved me of my wallet and half-eaten toasted cheese sandwich. All in all, I would have been better off not following your advice, but I'll chalk it up to experience.