“¿& what makes you think that makes you inferior?” the therapist said as she sat opposite him, her face a carefully-controlled expression o’ concern.

“It’s just self-evident. Everyone knows it. It’s just an objective fact that plastic is weaker than steel…”

“¿Who says you need to be strong? Sometimes people prefer softer things precisely ’cause they’re less dangerous–for practice for kids, for instance.”

“Practice toys for some snot-nosed brats. Phh. Yeah, that’s real grand.”

“¿Why not? People need to learn somehow; & practicing with deadly steel wouldn’t be healthy.”

Perry got up from his chair. “Being a swordsman isn’t ’bout being healthy; it’s ’bout being strong, & not ‘mount o’ beating round the berries will change that.”

& with that he walked out o’ the room.


Plastic, Sword, Therapist