The smurf was the worse off
When I was about 12 years old I decided to conduct some radical surgery to a collection of blue plastic smurfs. As befits a surgeon, I used a modelling scalpel for the job, delicately adjusting the number of limbs, noses and other features on my patients. Then I got to my last patient for the day. Papa Smurf obviously needed a beardectomy so I began the procedure, carving a gouge around the beard and then readying myself for the final cut to cleanly remove the afflicted area. Unfortunately there was a complication and the beard would not come off so I applied more and more pressure, carefully holding his head just so to make a clean cut. Suddenly the pressure told and the beard came off. Unfortunately the force I put behind it meant the scalpel gracefully continued through the beard and straight across my finger carving a 1 inch L-shaped gouge straight to the bone. Mum (an ex-nurse) wrapped the finger up but didn't bother to take me to A & E so the thing throbbed like a bastard for 3 weeks after. Took a month to heal and another 3 years before I regained full feeling and could bend that finger again.

Did I learn my lesson? Of course not. A few years later and I was trying to splice a TV aerial. That time around I had the brilliant idea of protecting my hand with a dish cloth so as to not suffer the same fate. So when the inevitable happened and the knife slipped it went straight through my cloth armour and put another 3/4 gouge into the same finger.
(MagicMoose, Fri 30 Jul 2010, 18:24, Reply)