I nipped into a local Ironmongers shop one weekend. The shop was quiet; apart from myself and the assistant behind the counter it was empty. Knowing exactly what I was looking for I just took a wee walk around the aisles. Unfortunately, I didn't see the object in question.
Obviously seeing the consternation etched in my face the assistant asked if he could help me.
'Can I help you, sir?'
(See! Told you!)
'Erm...do you sell hammers?' I replied.
The assistant raised an eyebrow (not mine, one of his own) and glanced over his shoulder. The wall behind him was festooned with hammers of all shapes and sizes.
'Yes sir, we do' was his rather needless answer.
'Smashing! I need a small one'
I pointed out a 10 ounce hammer - more like a mallet really - which the assistant took from the wall. Taking it from his grasp I asked if I could test it.
'Knock yourself out, sir'
'Actually, would it be okay to just hit the edge of your counter?'
I proceeded to pound the counter with much the same force I would wield the hammer at work.
'IT'S TOO NOISY!' I bellowed.
'THEN STOP HAMMERING!' the assistant bellowed back.
'I CAN'T HEAR YOU. I'LL HAVE TO STOP HAMMERING!'
'WHAT?'
'No need to shout; I'm not deaf' I put the hammer down on the counter. 'It's too noisy. Have you got a quieter hammer?'
The assistant stared at me. I stared back.
Eons passed: mountains rose and fell; the oceans shrank then swelled; continents drifted; stars blazed into existence then died gloriously fiery deaths.
'A quieter hammer?' the assistant enquired eventually.
'Yes please.' I'm nothing if not polite.
The assistant glanced around the otherwise empty shop and beckoned me to within whispering range. I duly obliged.
'If I show you something, you promise not to tell?'
I jumped back in shock.
'I'll have you know I'm not that type of guy! I'm very happily married! If I gave any other impress -'
'No, no!! You misunderstood me.' He looked around again to confirm our privacy then reached under the counter. With a look that implied I should be impressed he put a small black case on the counter-top. With practised ease he spun the combination lock then turned the case to face me.
'Go on...open it'
I swallowed noisily. 'It's not going to ... do anything, is it?'
'Just open it'
With a care learned from changing my babies dirty nappies I opened the case...
'What's this?'
The case was empty - except for a hammer-shaped depression in the foam lining. The assistant gave a knowing nod and a gleam came to his eye.
'It's ... a Stealth Hammer!'
I stared at the assistant. He stared back.
Eons passed: mountains rose...blah, blah, blah.
The assistant eventually reached into the case and 'picked up' the Stealth Hammer. With his fist seemingly clenched around nothing he swung down at the counter. A slightly-protruding nail vanished flush with the counter.
'How did you do that?!' I blurted out. My mind went into overdrive - well, second gear...it has no overdrive - as I tried to figure out how that trick was done.
'Stealth Hammer!' he said, incredulous at my failure to understand.
'But it didn't make a sound!!'
'Look, what's the point of making a hammer you can't see if all you have to do to find it is wait until someone uses it then follow the banging sound?!'
Of course. What WAS I thinking of? Silly me.
'Where did you get it?' I asked.
'Found it.'
I stared/he stared - Eons passed...blah, blah, blah.
'May I try it out?' I enquired, humouring the fool.
The assistant 'handed' it to me. I pretended to take it. The 'Stealth Hammer' was weightless and I couldn't feel a thing. Surprise, surprise.
'How can you tell if you've picked it up or not?'
‘Why do you think it’s kept in a case?‘ He indicated another protruding nail; 'Give that a bash'
I did. The nail suddenly went flush with the counter-top.
'How did you DO that?!' I imagined a piston system discreetly controlled by a foot switch.
'Stealth Hammer' he replied then winked at me.
'Yeah?!' I retorted, by now at the end of my tether, 'Bet you don't see THIS coming!'
I 'swung' the 'Stealth Hammer' at his face...

My court case comes up on Friday. The assistant spent a month in hospital and is even now - three months later - still having corrective dental surgery.
As for me; two things in my favour...1) the court-appointed psychiatrist has labelled me 'criminally insane' and, 2) the police can't find the weapon I used!