"Spin those vicarious nine inches of steel to and fro, stare in horrified rapture at the most trusted tool of the masterful merchant of death, and consider... Why must we reach beyond such grisly carnage to depths of slaughter greater still? Are there any among us not content with that most ancient of steel demons already offered them? Evidently there are... it is simple, really. Neither murder, nor its apostles, will ever truly be satiated. Where there is an edge, it shall become sharper, where nine inches sufficed, nineteen shall spring forth in their stead, where there are blades of perfect steel, they shall be tempered further, and where one felled dozens of faceless, worthless dolls, its progeny shall part the heads of legion - a metal executioner hefting high the axe. Where the Ka-Bar falls short, this colossal behemoth continues unabated, cleaving flesh and bone with a thirst and ravenous hunger hitherto unseen, bathing itself in a sea of crimson with but a single stroke. It reaps the field of battle; a tireless scythe to screaming human wheat. My friend, this is no simple knife... You grasp bedlam by its hilt, and it will not be denied."