The large man gave a groan and woke up from his stupor. What had happened? Oh, oh yeah, by the throbbing of his hand, it was bleeding and the scent of wine drifted into his nostrils along with that metallic scent of the blood. Uriel bellowed, "What kind of idiot stabs his hand trying to open a bottle of wine? This kind of idiot apparently!" It wasn't a joke, he was furious with himself for even grabbing the bottle. This was God's way of telling him he ought not to have done that, he thought.

"Ugh, it stings." And then he rolled onto his side, intent on getting up. "Just a scratch," he muttered, "Just a flesh wound. Nothing more. Acting like a baby." He was slightly woozy but he was able not to faint again.