Truncheon!
Big Smurf reminds me...

My maternal grandfather was a copper. My paternal grandfather had a lathe.

So it is that I now own a truncheon that has been hollowed out, filled with lead, and then put back together, rendering it a couple of feet of oaken death. You can injure someone just by showing it to them.

When I lived in Hull, it lived by the front door. We had little trouble with miscreants.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Mon 18 Feb 2008, 15:16, 15 replies)

Fantastic!
Clicking for "You can injure someone just by showing it to them"
( uberdeity Wondered why Owen Lars knew of the term "hell" on, Mon 18 Feb 2008, 15:22, closed)

Oooooh....

Can I have one?

pleeeeeeeease?
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Mon 18 Feb 2008, 15:23, closed)

@pooflake
It occurs to me that I could now force you to release Bernard...
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Mon 18 Feb 2008, 15:27, closed)

erm...

Curse my busy lifestyle!

I haven't even sent you TIM the Enchanter yet have I?

*Slaps self*
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Mon 18 Feb 2008, 15:32, closed)

I can't believe
you skipped the length gag. Or at least substituted it with a girth reference.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Mon 18 Feb 2008, 15:37, closed)

...
Indeed - no reference to length, girth, or even its impressive hardness. What is b3ta coming to?
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Mon 18 Feb 2008, 15:40, closed)

The traditional D Cell maglite or baseball bat
Are often the 'blunt objects' class runners-upo but the rosette goes to....


The Portuguese Hitting Stick.

What can only be described as a solid oak mace, with the unfriendly splatting end studded with steel knobbly bits.

Every time I look at this I am reminded of Douglas Adams' "Friendship Stopper".

Home Security by means of superior firepower- excellent.
(osok Rebel without a clue, Mon 18 Feb 2008, 15:41, closed)

Woo!
At my parents house, they keep my father's machete behind the front door. It's 3 feet long, completely blunt, and covered in rust. It is, however, very impressive looking, and can give you tetanus just by looking at it.

Seeing as every person we know just comes round straight to the back door, the machete tends to be seen only by the occasional Jehova's Witness.

Which is, of course, my father's intention...
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Mon 18 Feb 2008, 15:47, closed)

...
My grandfather (the one with the lathe), kept a brick by the front door as a JW repellant. But my favourite method belonged to my ex-flatmate R... but I might keep that for a future QoTW, it being divergent in theme from this one...
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Mon 18 Feb 2008, 15:50, closed)

as a student I
used to answer the door in my Jane's Addiction Ritual de lo Habitual t-shirt, a pair of knickers and a pair of DM boots with my hair in its usual mess of multi-coloured streaks, and the man from Belfast Missions would run a mile.

I am also fortunate that the sex pests wouldn't touch me either.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Mon 18 Feb 2008, 15:59, closed)

^^^^^^
*Begins to lose control of motor functions*

(You saucy little thing, you...)
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Mon 18 Feb 2008, 16:03, closed)

my
mother hated that t-shirt and threatened to make it into a pervy, obscene duster, but I'm pretty sure I still have it somewhere. Well, that or my mum's dusting with a cloth featuring a papier maché 3-way.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Mon 18 Feb 2008, 16:06, closed)

^^^CHCB
My flatmates and I were getting reading for a School Disco night at the sleazy uni club, when there was a knock at the door.

We opened the door, wearing the sluttiest uniforms you could imagine (teeny-tiny skirts, fishnet stockings, shirts open to reveal our push-up bras, and A LOT of makeup), clutching our gin and tonics and cackling like maniacs, to be confronted with: a horrified-looking mother and two small children of indeterminate gender. They looked like they were going to cry, and the mother just hurried them away from the door immediately, shooting us filthy looks.

We'd forgotten it was Halloween...
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Mon 18 Feb 2008, 16:11, closed)

Top Tip
If you've clocked the God Squad heading in your direction (I live on a terraced street and you can see the tsunami of people turning off their lights, running away or in extreme circumstances attempting suicide as the JWs work their way along)...

Answer the door with a charming smile. And the end of a tourniquet between your teeth, the other wrapped around your arm. Mumble "come in, I'm having problems finding the vein and could do with a hand". Guaranteed.

Mrs Osok, She Who Must Be Ignored, will NOT answer the door under any circs if she's in her scruffs, so it's usually me opening the door in the early morning quiet in my version of CHCB's outfit....

Ancient tour t-shirt, flipflops and either boxers or a scruffy pair of Ron Hills. Not a sight for the nervous, or those who appreciate the beauty of the human form and it's complete absence.

I have a feeling that her version may well be better received by the discerning.

(AND I never got a sex pest either)
(osok Rebel without a clue, Mon 18 Feb 2008, 16:50, closed)

I found that:
Declaring myself a satanist just gets disapproving looks and an un-eventful exit.

Leading them on is more fun, like "That's very interesting. How about we.." *eyebrows raise in hope, faces beam* ".. sit cross-legged on my lawn and sing songs about it? You annoying pack of twats!" *faces sink in dejection, they trudge off my driveway*

My personal favourite was "just a second! *I stare upwards & fart loudly* Right, what were you saying?" *they look at me like I offered them a dogshit sandwich - It smells like I really did*
(Greencloud Wanted to go fishing on, Mon 18 Feb 2008, 17:11, closed)