Glorfindel cried out as he was burned, fiery agony spreading through his hands. He dropped the offending object, but then forced himself to grasp it again. He couldn't lose it…he just couldn't.
Then…the blade. It cut through the heat, his hands crying out in relief of the coolness. Back and forth, his focus absolute.
He held up the finished product, and cried aloud his success.
Erestor looked up tiredly.
"Glorfindel, for Valar's sake! Like you've never used a laminator and guillotine before! You're acting like an Elfling!"