In the 23rd century the solar system was wracked by constant warring between the fragmented states of the Asteroid Belt. Particularly successful in these wars was one tribe (I'll call them Joes) which managed to total up a surprising war record despite its amazingly primitive weaponry through sheer ferocity.
After having dispatched a fleet from a rival nation (call them Jacks), the Joe general went over to his adversary's flagship to sign a treaty of peace.
After the diplomatic niceties were taken care of, the Jack general (who had been wounded in the previous day's fighting) took a moment of his time to talk shop and mention his injury. Their exchange follows:
Said the Jack general, "What was that laser you sawed me with last night?"
Came the reply, . . . "That was no laser--that was my knife!"
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