Beware the Prince of Darkness!

The background to this story is that due to various stupid visa requirements, my girlfriend had to live at a different address for some time. She ended up living in a not particularly nice part of town where break-ins and generally anti-social dirtbags were common.
One night, in the very early hours of the morning, she is awoken by a hammering on the front door. The lady likes her sleep, and given the area she tries to ignore it. After about 20 minutes it becomes obvious that no one else in the house is inclined to do anything and the caller is not going to go away. She gets up and answers the door.
Outside are three drunk and now very pissed-off Italian flatmates. Everything goes very quiet. (Remember these are drunk, angry Italians!)
After a long pause, one lad asks “What kind of a knife is that?”
“It is my kukri!” she answers matter of factly. “The Prince of Darkness.”
She really has named the kukri I gave her for Christmas “The Prince of Darkness”. As she explains it: “ I move my hand –fttt! there is only darkness!” If she is going to answer the door at 2am in the morning in one of the worst areas of town, she is going to take precautions.