I make a guest appearance in today's Serious Fun, where I say this:
"Kelly, as your co-worker and, I'd like to think, friend, I advise you not to attack me."
I know the exact wording, because I had time to decide on exactly what I was going to say. Kelly had the turn after mine, and he had a Razia, Boros Archangel looking around for a target. It's difficult to convince someone with a large Vigilant flier not to do anything with it, and I was the easy target. Laura was down to six life, I think, and there's a lot of peer pressure not to kill someone off in that situation. Plus, I don't like trying to make the argument "You should attack someone else instead of me because they're weaker". Normally I like to point to a stronger enemy and explain how they're the real threat.
Unfortunately, Brian, who ended up winning the game, had an untapped Broodstar, which was something like a 9/9. Incidentally, the only reason it was untapped was that I had talked him out of attacking me on his turn, since he clearly needed something to protect him from Razia.
So my usual technique of explaining why I wasn't the correct target wouldn't work. I wasn't actually that worried about the attack itself, because I had Instant-speed creature removal in my hand. So I went with the advice quoted above. The interesting thing is that I chose not to just tell Kelly that I could destroy his creature. Heck, I could even have just shown him the Cruel Revival as a deterrent. But I think that sort of thing lacks subtlety. Also, at some point in the future, I might need to bluff him, and if I've established that I always show the deterrent, there's no way to imply it when I don't have it.
Looking back, I should probably have skipped all the above planning and just taken the six damage. I was at 28 or so, so it's not like it was killing me. And as much fun as it was to use Cruel Revival to return a zombie from my graveyard to my hand, it actually shrunk my Soulless One. Awkward.