She had plugged the knife into the outlet by his wheelchair and there had been more pleading and more screaming and more promises that he would be good.
He waited patiently for her to return, eating his soup as he did so, holding the spoon awkwardly between the first and second fingers of his left hand. Now she stood beside the car, shaking her finger at his closed window, and again Paul could dimly hear her voice: " - think you are so-so-so smaa-aart!