Keep Your Blood Off the Furniture!

Sometimes, entertaining people come over. And by that I mean my roommate's friend and his cousin. His cousin just makes fun of my roommate and talks about how glorious he and skydiving are, and my roommate laughs, and then her friend bleeds. Yes, bleeds. It started like this. We needed some almonds for the salad. We had just obtained an ulu knife (an Alaskan (as in Eskimo) knife design) which is a rather strange (and thus exciting) knife. So my roommate began cutting almonds, but then took a phone call. So her friend says, "Here, I have two hands. Let me do that." She looks away. She looks back. He's only using one hand. She says, "What happened to your hand?!" He says "Nothing." She says "Don't lie to me." He says, "It's fine, really." She says, "False, let me see your hand!" So he finally lets her see it when it's clear that the bleeding will need to be stopped, as it is coming forth from his clenched hand. i.e. he really did cut it and could no longer deny. She takes him to the bathroom, they wash it off, are glad he still has a fingertip (mostly), yada yada yada. And then life goes on, we eat dinner, he keeps a tissue on his finger for most of the night because it won't stop bleeding. And then I step in something. And it's red. I say, "Dude, no bleeding on my floor!" and his cousin is all, "Oh come on, it's BBQ sauce." False. Twas blood. And then I go into my bathroom. Blood. On the toilet, on the sink, in the garbage. I have the greatest of sympathy for his almost decapitated finger. But dude, blood on the floor, fridge, toilet, counter, in the almonds.... Keep your blood off of the furniture.