- Joined
- Nov 30, 2001
- Messages
- 13,564
Once upon a time there was the legend of a little elf that went by the name Thourot. At night he would sneak into the Busse shop and sharpen the random knife or three and sneak back out with a maniacal giggle, and most of the Scotch.
At night, when all is silent, and you whistle a special Irish tune, you can still hear the "Caloo Calay" of the old elf to this day. And if you put out a nice enough Scotch you might actually see it drain dry with a still small hickup.
If your very lucky you'll see the signs of said elf on your knife today! Look for the tiny little finger prints on the satin surface, then you know you've got a special blade indeed. Snicker Snack!
At night, when all is silent, and you whistle a special Irish tune, you can still hear the "Caloo Calay" of the old elf to this day. And if you put out a nice enough Scotch you might actually see it drain dry with a still small hickup.
If your very lucky you'll see the signs of said elf on your knife today! Look for the tiny little finger prints on the satin surface, then you know you've got a special blade indeed. Snicker Snack!