"Right." Thomas says, rummaging through his pockets, only to pull out a cellphone "you see these?" He said, showing him a picture of various different types of knives "made them myself. And if you don't stop, I will go home, grab... This one." He points to a rather vicious looking curved blade "and slit your throat. Then you'll die of blood loss rather quickly. Within a minute, if I am correct. And in your last fleeting moments, choking on your own blood, you'll see my face. And I'll be smiling."