I assumed her finger was ok, what with her saying her finger was, well, for the most part, ok. Anything that doesn't need stitches is classed as ok in my world. Actually, anything needing less than 20 stitches counts as ok. 20-40 stitches classes as vaguely interesting, as long as it's going to leave a cool scar (chicks dig scars, or so we are told), anything 40-80 stitches merits mild concern, anything 81 and over are classed as worthy of special mention.
There are of course, exceptions, no matter how small the stitched area, were the need for the stitches was caused by blade or bullet, then that makes them noteworthy. Similarly, if it's a guy talking about how he rescued a hot chick, then even if it's one stitch, it's of noteworthy magnitude, if the chick wasn't hot, then it has to be 25 stitches or more. If she was downright hideous then the benchmark is 50 or more. If the stitches were caused by saving a politician, then no amount are deemed acceptable, indeed, the mere act of saving a politician merits the affliction of additional wounds causing even more stitches.
If any of the stitches are within 14.728" of the scrotal area, then anything over 2 stitches makes you a god. Anything actually on the immediate environs of the clackersack or skinflute, unless caused by some kind of STD, elevates you to Supergod status. Unless you were dumb enough to get that thing pierced voluntarily. What's the deal with that, never once have I had the urge to get 'Mr Party Time' out, slap it on the counter and say "drive a nail through that bad boy for me". I did have a mate who had an ampalang piercing. It was grim. If you don't know what an ampallang piercing looks like, I have simulated one using a picture I conveniently found of a sausage and two eggs. Never let it be said I have too much time on my hands. Well, ok, let it be said, because it's true. Anyway... As an aside, the aforementioned friend once drunkenly told me that if he was 'relaxing in the gentleman's way' (i.e., twanging the one-string bass, bashing the bishop, tearing the head off it, saluting the general, etc etc), if he took the bar out, and put his finger over the normal aperture, when he got to the vinegar strokes, it would come shooting out of the sides. But enough about that, back on to the whole pain thing.
Additionally, men have the oft forgotten burden of having to conform to the 'Indiana Jones Corollary' which means we are prohibited from exhibiting any outward signs of pain, no matter how punishing the physical stress being experienced, however, should a girl subsequently tend our wounds, we are obliged to wince at the merest dab of ointment. The magnitude of the wince is directly proportional to the hotness of the girl providing the treatment:
5. Absolute Boiler: Permitted: low pitched grunt or growl. Recommended: Anything heavily laced with expletives, ideally "Jesus f**king Christ, what the f**k are you f**king doing to me you f**king sadist!"
4. Acceptable after 10 beers: Permitted: Yelping, or the aforementioned growl. Recommended: A lesser degree of expletives, not quite as directly phrased, such as "Holy f**k, that stings like a b*tch"
3. Acceptable after 5 beers: Permitted: a breathy "aaaahhhhhhhh". Recommended: Mild cursing, along the lines of "Sh*t, that b**tard stings... I'm going to suffer in the morning."
2. No beers required, Decent in all categories: Permitted: A sharp intake of breath followed by a twitch of the afflicted area. Recommended: Giving her a steely stare as she tends you, so you can reinforce how tough and manly you are.
1. Absolute stunner: Permitted: A soft intake of breath, but no twitching. Recommended: Occasionally looking into her eyes, as long as you are sure she is looking into yours. Mandatory: using your undamaged (or least damaged) hand to hold her wrist as she dabs some TCP onto a wound, thus facilitating eye contact, then pulling her toward you. Always prohibited: Everything else mentioned for classifications 5-2 above.
Of course, there is one other classification of injury which, when included to the mix, only serves muddy the waters further, I refer of course, to the specific kind of fingular (which I know isn't actually a word, so don't go all 'Daily Mail' on me!) mayhem caused by guitar strings. Any pain, discomfort or even mild annoyance caused in the creation of music (particularly that of a rocktacular variety. such as that unleashed by bands of almost mythical stature and legendary ability, not that I'd want to mention The Portraits by name, for
we they are far too humble to fully agree with our their deification, although of course it would be rude of us them to disagree) requires a specific type of salvation. In the interests of completeness, I will explain how, just in case you happen to be in the environs of a rock star (like, say, Bonio) or even, a rock Superstar (such as the bass player from The Portraits, who is not only handsome and intelligent, he helps old people change car tyres, is good to his mother, and has a libido which, if it could be tapped into the grid, would power several European countries. I mean, just small ones, Belgium, Portugal, Britain, maybe Italy at a push. Unless the girl is mega hot, in which case France, Germany and Russia would also be included. Now, where was I....)
Ah yes, if you are a lady lucky enough to be in the presence of a rock behemoth who needs some TLC, there is of course a strict protocol to be followed. Firstly, you must quickly ascertain the source and severity of his malady. Then, regardless of what the reason is, you must divest yourself of your upper garments, for such articles as shirts, blouses, t-shirts and of course, the villainous brasierre can cause a dangerous build up of static in the lady, and an even more deadly build up of frustration for your rock star. Bear in mind, should the rock star experience a libido build up of to massive a proportion, bad things happen. Everyone thinks it was the Chixulub meteor impact which wiped out the dinosaurs, but no, it was an unmonitored build-up of sexual frustration from a well known rock star, which became so massive that it gained sentience, invented a time machine, and travelled back in time to blow itself up, which ended the dinosaurs, which in turn, gave rise to the age of the mammal, and of course ultimately, mankind. Once you are safely topless, you can then undertake a thorough physical examination of your rock star, bearing in mind that this may involve some very detailed work, some of which will require further nudity on your part, and if the situation is critical (if you are wondering when it would be critical - the situation will always be critical) you may be called upon to undertake such actions as may be required to cause your rock star to increase his heart rate and core temperature, raising his level of cardiovascular activity and relieving him of stress. And other things. After you are sure the rock star has been taken care of, it may be an idea to cook him a nice meal, after all, he will have to keep his strength up!
This has been a public service announcement on behalf of The Portraits. Thank you for reading.