He picked up the Knife and smiled. “We have been through so much together, my friend...and so many” he mused. “Remember the first one?”
“Oui, biensur!” answered the Knife. It was a gift from his pen pal in France, so it didn’t seem too strange that it spoke in French, though it was somewhat surprising that its French vocabulary was quite similar to his. At least it spoke English in an exaggerated French accent, just like in the movies, which was reassuring.
“Je suis still envious of that one you used the stone on, though”
“Well, mon ami, you always said we must balance things out. It did have a pretty good balance to it” said the boy and chuckled.
“Ne mock pas la balance!”
“Besides”, continued the boy unphased, it was quite symbolic using the stone, if I do say so myself. Not the cleanest way, sure, but very symbolic nonetheless. Poetic even. Bloody metaphoric one could say. If I cannot skip stones on water, no one should!”
“Ah, les Anglais, you will never understand true poetry…”
“Wot?! I dare you say that to Shakespeare’s face, Binky!” The boy found it equally poetic calling the Knife Binky, after Death’s horse in a story he read once, though it kept insisting its name was Jean-Luc, after the famous captain Jean-Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise, the most famous Frenchman on TV. He didn’t have the heart to explain to the closet Trekkie the ancestry of the Frenchman.
“Le jeune homme doth protest too much, moithinks. La balance must be enforced! Let’s go hunting tonight!”
“Best idea you had in a while, Binky. Tonight the Batman dies!”
“Wait, quoi?!”
“Oh, nothing. Get ready, we’re going out! The balance must be enforced!”
The boy put on his grayish coat, placed the Knife in a pocket close to his heart, and went out to do what needed to be done.