Read the excerpt from "Lather and Nothing Else."And so, which will it be? Murderer or hero? My fate hangs on the edge of this razor blade. I can turn my wrist slightly, put a bit more pressure on the blade, let it sink in. The skin will yield like silk, like rubber, like the strop. There is nothing more tender than a man’s skin, and the blood is always there, ready to burst forth. A razor like this cannot fail. It is the best one I have.But I don’t want to be a murderer. No, sir. You came in to be shaved. And I do my work honorably. I don’t want to stain my hands with blood. Just with lather, and nothing else.