"It is early Spring, and you are at a social gathering on the veranda of a Victorian mansion situated on 700 acres just outside of Charleston, SC. A cool spring breeze is bringing the smell of ribs from the grill. An intoxicating aroma of charcoal and sizzling meat.
The estate's owner, a very attractive young widow who recently inherited a shipping fortune of almost $800M, is clearly captivated by your charm and good humor. She approaches, accompanied by her twin sister who has returned just this morning from boarding school in Switzerland. After a shy giggle and a bit of conversation, the young widow flings her long, brown hair away from her face and asks if you might slice a lime for her Gin and Tonic. As she does so, you sense the slightest whiff of her scent, which is quickly replaced by that of the grill. You find yourself suddenly hungry, though for what you know not.
You:
a) remove your Spyderco Camo Military with black blade from your pocket, and it snaps open with a satisfying clunk. The young widow retracts in fear and drop her Gin and Tonic. Her security personnel wrestle you to the ground and remove you from the estate; or,
b) you casually remove a small, finely crafted folder hand-made of exquisite and costly materials. You expertly slice the lime with its razor edge, and place a slice in the widow's drink. As you do so, your hand casually touches hers, precipitating her to blush. But the blush is accompanied by an unblinking stare into your own eyes, and you see her pupils dilate ever so slightly. After an embarrassed pause, she asks if you might accompany her and her sister on a private walking tour of the riding stables. You accept, and begin your stroll as the sun begins to set behind the adjacent hills.
If your answer is b), you were carrying a gentleman's knife."
:thumbup: 
