Sorry, Buddy.

Oh, my poor left hand. What a rough year it's been for you. It's not that I don't love you, it's just that you and I have had our differences and have never been able to develop any great dexterity, that's all. We both know I'm far from ambidextrous, so please don't let these minor mishaps ruin the relationship we've been working so hard on. (Uh-oh, looks like someone owes a dollar to the 'End A Sentence With A Preposition Jar'.) And look, it's not like the nail through the index finger will have any long-term consequences, right? I still feel bad though. It must've been quite a shock, 'cause I didn't feel anything at all. And you know I tried to pull it out immediately, it just wouldn't come, so don't say I didn't try to help. Although, I will admit, stopping to take pictures with the nail through it may have been a little insensitive of me, but hey, at least we'll have those memories to share.

Well, I'll talk to you later, buddy.

Daytona Splinter.