"Come on! There has to be at least one knife!" Soul complained.
He continued to rummage through the various drawers of the kitchen in search of a knife. Maka was out late tonight helping Liz with her essay back at school. By the time she got home, there'd be no way she'd cook for anyone. And if there wasn't food, Maka would end up complaining to Soul.
"Dammit, all of the knives have to be cleaned," Soul said. He sighed. There was no way he'd end up doing dishes. If he only cleaned on knife, he'd have to listen to Maka nag him about the rest of the dishes.
Soul crossed his arms. "There has to be something I can use."
He began to tap his fingers on his arm. Soul came to a realization and smiled. He unfolded his arms and partially transformed so his arm was a scythe.
"This should work."