There Will Be Blood

We got into a tussle with some local farm boys over a golden pond. Some words were exchanged and some fisticuffs materialized. It was a solid rumble for myself until some dehydrated, blood-thirsty fellow speared me in the chin. My blood sprayed artistically into the cold winter air -- like a Tarantino flicker -- and I fell into the snow with my arms flailing, effectively making a red snow angel. My attacker then vampired me and headed back to Avonlea.
I received several stitches, and my bloody humanity personified Humpty Dumpty. My doctor threatened that he would of sliced me up himself had he been playing hockey with a Toronto Maple Leaf-wearing anti-hero.
According to wiki-How, I can remove these stitches myself and thus defer an annoying journey to Uxbridge to see my family doctor. All I need are tweezers, a small pair of scissors, hydrogen peroxide or alcohol, and a magnifying glass. The latter will be the most difficult to obtain; I am not a scientist, nor am I a sadist who torches ants (for more information on ants see Tom Waits).
There is a warning attached to this page, relating to the danger of removing your own stitches but, hey, Leon does it.