Today’s writing session involved a little research with a friend. I’ll protect his identity by calling him Scotty.

Me: Hey, your wife used to be a paramedic, right?

Scotty: This isn’t going to be another one of those fetish conversations, is it?

Me: No, no, not this time. I just need to know what kind of stabby things you can find in the back of an ambulance.

Scotty: I think they have all sorts of… stabby things.

Me: And slicy things. I need something that can stab and slice.

Scotty: You want to know this why?

Me: I need to kill someone tomorrow, and it has to be something taken from the back of an ambulance.

Scotty: When the police come talk to me, I’m denying we ever had this conversation.

Me: It’s research. For the new book.

Scotty: Uh-huh.

Me: Whatever the stabby, slicy thing is, it can’t be scissors. I think the paramedics carry those on their belts and the paramedics aren’t with the ambulance.

Scotty: What happened to the paramedics?

Me: Oh, they’re looking for the ambulance.

Scotty: I imagine they are.