Last week I checked wen my car was due for an MOT (tat is a legally required regular road-worthy check). I discovered it was fantastically overdue, and so I made plans to get it sorted out. After all, I didn't particularly want to be committing a criminal offence every time I drove to see my girlfriend. One of the requiremetns for the car to pass the MOT check is that all rear-view mirrors must be intact and clearly visible from the driver's seat. That is the interior rear view mirror, the driver side wing mirror, and the passenger side wing mirror.

No problem, I thought.

And then, some point in the last week, some fucking arsehole kid tore off my passenger side wing mirror and smashed my driver side wing mirror. And this really really pissed me off. It wasn't the fact that I could no longer see if there was any cyclists in danger if I was turning left any more. It wasn't the fact that it was difficult to tell if I was being overtaken if I was pulling out to the right on the motorway. It wasn't even the fact that my car was now a mobile offence and was bound to fail its MOT. Nor was it the fact that it would cost me a good thirty quid at least to replace the mirrors in readiness for the MOT.

No. What really really pissed me right off was the fact that some little fucking arsehole kid ripped off my fucking wing mirror and doesn't even care. For the past week I have been thinking of possible scenarios that would have played out had I apprehended the scallywag in mid car-fucking. These are presented below for your consideration.

1. I look out of the window to see a dirty little 13 year old tearing my wing mirror off while his filthy friends watch on in amusement. I spring forth from the house and grab hold of the little fucker. After he has stopped sqealing, squirming and trying to get away, he shuts up, and I ask where he lives. We march round to his house and I knock on the door and present his father with the news that his son is a disruptive vandal. This scenario's merit ends here, as I realise that his parents couldn't give a flying fuck about what he does and spend most of their time smoking, drinking and watching TV. Parents don't care about kids anymore I think, and then kick myself for not enacting out scenario 2.

2. I look out of the window to see a grubby 13 year old with spiky hair smashing my wing mirror. Pouncing from the bushes, I wrestle him to the ground and wait for him to stop trying to escape. Then It's off to the police station, where I inform the desk constable that the little shit is responsible not only for criminalk damage, but for making my car unbsafe to drive. The constable informs me that as he is a minor there is nothing they can do, other than give the scraggy little shit a stern talking to (which will fall entirely on deaf ears), and I kick myself for not enacting out scenario 3.

3. I park my car and I lhide under the back seat with easy access to the door. When the gang of nonchalant 13 year old motherfuckers turn up ready to cause some damage, I leap out of the car and grab anyone who so much as looked at my fucking wing mirrors. I bang their empty heads together as hard as fucking possible and then proceed to administer the beating of their life. They are left aching, sore and bleeding, and they run straight home to their parents who either call the police or come round and beat the shit out of me. I kick myself for not just enacting out scenario 4 in the first place

4. I park my car and lie in wait, ready for a pre-pubescent vantal to lay his uneducated mitts on my wing mirror, at which point I leap out of the car, wearing nothing but a hideous brazillian tribal mask made from a coconut and featuring the jaws of a piranha fish over my groinal region (like some kind of horrendous shamanic cod-piece). Wooping like a gibbon, I grab the NED (non-educated delinquent) by the throat and drag him into my house, where I tie him to a chair with copious amounts of duct tape. At this point, the kid is screaming and starting to get rather worried. I pull up another chair and sit there with a large knife, scratching something into a large block of wood, staring directlky at him and grinning all the time. It's probably at this point that the little fucker is starting to get really fucking scared and has completely shut up. Speaking in hushed tones, I tell the future dole-bludger that I was looking for one final person to complete the blood sacrifice, and tell him I have to prepare, leaving him alone in a dark room with a large dog. After a few hours I return and cut him loose, telling him about the spell I have prepared that will kill him instantly if he either a) tells anyone about this ordeal, or b) touches another car wing mirror ever again. This scenario has the best outcome of the four, as I don't get into any trouble, and the kid has one less twatty habit he feels compelled to perform.

OK. So all four of those scenarios were fantasies, and they were constructed because I was really fucking pissed off. But each one raises a point to think about. In the first one, we see an arsehole kid's parent's not giving a shit about what he does. This seems to occur far to frequently these days; parents don't seem to have any time for their children, and provide exceptionally poor role models for impressionable youths. Scenario  two shows us that even the law is powerless againt the minor-menace. OK, so broken wing mirrors are more of an inconvenience than anything else, but think on this: in a local village, an indian man was severely beaten in a racist attack by a white youth. As he was under 16, the police could not do anything. The victim later died in hospital from his injuries, and the twatty fucking kid that perpetrated the crime gets away scott fucking free. In scenario three, I go postal on some kid. Somebody needs to. If they're not taught a lesson, arsehole kids simply grow up into arsehole adults. And yet violence is not the answer. Yet somehow I think these kids see themselves as being exempt from any retribution whatsoever. They should know that is not the case. But then, the revenge beating from the violent father simply proves that violence begets more violence. It helps to imagine beating on someone. But for christ's sake restrain yourself from ACTUALLY doing it.

So the best scenario is the fourth and final one. After all, what is more fantastic than psychologically scarring arsehole kids for life? My advice is to do it to at least one kid before you die.

So next time you see a group of pre-pubescent fairies about to wreck something that doesn't belong to them, try and stop it. Usually a loud shout of "OI!" will be enough to disperse them. If that fails, move towards them menacingly and act like a psycho. If all else fails, just remember that your bigger than them and they'll come off worse in a fight -- if things look like they'll get rough, I guarantee the kids will leave post haste, hopefully before they cause too much damage.