"I want ya t' make Rambo's knife, but bigger; as big as Crocodile Dundee's," Atchmon chuckled at the memory of his younger self talking to the best local blade maker in town; while rolling the only blunt part of his blade across the surface of the square piece of flint; causing as much friction as possible between the metal and stone. He watched as sparks cascaded like a waterfall between his tools, and down into the awaiting tinder. 