Because my court has airport type security; an electric doorframe and a tray for your metal bits: keys, coins and rip out you heart please, you’ve got a pacemaker. And I’m filling my tray when the apelike rentacop suddenly jabs his red button and leaps back howling: “He’s got an offensive weapon!”
No, it’s my 12 tool Swiss Army knife, from that region of Switzerland called China. And the Chinky steel blade broke when I tried cutting cheese. So what’s freaking-out Mr Uniform? Maybe I’ll scalp his monkey head with the can opener, or bust his braces with the tiny saw tool, so his own untrousered, little tool pops out.
Exactly what are these offensive weapons? The law says anything made or adapted to injure a person. But it’s ok if they’re carried for religious reasons. So a blade is fine if you do door to door circumcisions.
Another legal defence allows blades that are part of a national costume. So all you pirates of the Caribbean from Moss Side and Westbourne Grove can claim to feel well undressed without a Swiss Army Knife. It’s a cutlass, fool!
Likewise, Americans feel stark bollock naked if their army knife doesn’t come with little high-powered rifle, bazooka and nuclear missile tools. The Salford army knife boasts multi-bottle openers, coke spoons and spliff tweezers. Which brings us back to court.
You know those killer come-backs; the smart things you wish you’d said in arguments that come to you next day? I want to revisit rentacop and tell him: “Offensive weapon? Your wife doesn’t complain to me, when you’re away on nights! But then, she shouldn’t talk with her mouth full, should she?
Case dismissed.
© Mike Atkinson
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