Define Weapon?
There I was sat in the ‘Sack and Puppy’, sipping a pint of Witches Nipple, perusing an online discussion pondering the likelihood of the BBC making a programme showcasing Lucy Worsley’s extensive Coat, Handbag and Shoe collection. Advantageously filmed by midgets 18 inches from the floor in order to get, I’m assuming, all the accoutrements in the same frame. Out of focus shots mandatory.
The attentive followers had adjourned to look at her iplayer back catalogue, and 24hrs later had come back to report there was absolutely no need – there was already enough material to make half a dozen hour long specials. There were also suggestions that a refocus onto apolitical historical content might be nice.
Three blokes came in, bought pints and sat down at the table next to me. One cocked his head to listen to the background music. It was Pat Benatar’s ‘Stop Using Sex as a Weapon’.
The resultant conversation went something like this, with names clarified along the way;
Chubbs: Did your other half use sex as a weapon, Munty?
Munty: I doubt it. Breech loading was a non starter and muzzle loading too far back in the past….
Chubbs: Sounds like a ‘no’ then. What did the other-half favour as the weapon of choice?
Munty: Some kind of household implement I’d guess, Chubbs.
Boz: What? Like a toaster? Smoke, the smell of burning and alarms waking the whole house up screams weaponisation to me.
Munty: Something traditional perhaps? Rolling pin?
Boz: Fag in the corner of her mouth and rollers in her hair? Fucking Hell Munty, 1960’s tabloid comic strip! Anyway a rolling pin is rarer and less visible than an Iranian General. How much pastry rolling happens these days?
Munty: I suppose the other traditional item, the frying pan is also out then: maybe I’ve been single too long. I’m not sure where the rolling pin and frying pan stuff came from. I don’t remember any vicious gory stories involving a wife going ballistic and taking out half a dozen blokes. Going Sutcliffe with a sauté pan doesn’t ring any bells.
Boz: You’d have seen it on one of those true crime programmes by now. There’s enough of them to have explored every case there’s ever been ten times over. Same sort of TV people have been through every Marvel comic ever published looking for an unexploited character. Surprised we haven’t seen ‘Copyright Man’ yet.
Munty: Maybe one of those 6 inch high, glossy gold china word things. You know them? They spell ‘LOVE’ or ‘HOME’ and such like. There were puffy wall sticker versions too, as if you’d forget it was your house and need a reminder. They’d hurt broken on your noggin! (He described the ‘things’ shape and size with his hands as he spoke).
Chubbs: Sounds good. Less of that kind of tat in the world is a step forward. I endured that shit during the horrific crushed silver velour period. My attic is a timeline of tat. But any heavy ornament would fit that outcome. I was thinking of specific universal things that they’d all use.
Boz: Do you mean the power of speech?
Chubbs: No, that’s why Mother Nature invented wireless headphones. You’re both missing the most obvious weapon, one that has endured and evolved over decades.
Munty: Are we back on Aunty Pat’s doorstep once more? Full circle? (He pointed upward indicating it was the musical ‘sex’ question originally posed)
Chubb: Nope. More modern than that. (He paused for effect) I’m talking about the Hoover, or I should say vacuum cleaner.
Boz: You fucking what? I’m not missing a trick here? You do mean the carpet cleaning thing?
Munty: It’s not a euphemism only you know? One you’ve just made up?
Extract from Manual (DFM)…
Chubb: Nope. That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Think about it. It comes in sizes from small hand held to heavy duty industrial and some barely man portable. Now cordless and very mobile. They obviously have motors designed to hit that frequency level where invasive meets irritating, meets anti social. Wireless headphones are not a defence..
Munty: Hmm… that kind of utility and effectiveness sounds like a weapon…
Chubb: What else can bang into doors and walls with such reckless abandon? And after maximum annoyance, as intensity is ramped up until a reaction is forthcoming, objections are robustly defended with the classic ‘well, somebody has to clean up around here…. – I’m not going to live in a pigsty… – you’re clearly not going to do it…’ et cetera.. Huffing and puffing clearly implied.
Boz: Now you mention it my mum used her Hoover like some kind of emotional venting system. Saturday morning was a fucking nightmare, especially when you’d only been in bed 4 hours, and were metabolising a dozen pints.. I always wondered how after 30 years of vacuum ‘driving’ she could smash into quite as much of the house as she did. Like Ben Hur’s fucking chariot!
Chubb: Be aware that the vacuum’s rubber bumpers aren’t to protect the furniture. They’re to increase weapon capability. The rollers and suchlike underneath intensify the noise, and are there to intimidate, a bit like the sound of grinding tank tracks puts the shits up your average trench bound squaddie.
Munty: My sister’s got a Kirby. It’s the Leopard 2 of the vacuum world. Metal bodied with a separate drive motor. She doesn’t have to go around the house, just hoovers upstairs and the whole floor vibrates. You’d think a sinkhole was opening up below.
Chubb: The vacuum’s won anti-social, and passive-agressive, household appliance of the year awards 38 times in a row. The hairdryer didn’t stand a chance, and that’s consistently come second. That’s invasive, makes the telly unwatchable but most have a cable and malevolently drying your hair all over the house is difficult to justify. The vacuum is ‘access all areas’ and impossible to counter unless you like being called lazy and dirty, and immediately losing the moral high ground.
Boz: But I’m not complaining about the cleaning stuff – it’s the timing. I complained once and got, ‘I don’t care if it is the World Cup Final, and its only once every four years, I’m not living in squalor’. Thing is the week before I’d got the drill out – after work, to put the shelf up she’d asked for – and I got a gob full. ‘Coronation Street’ took priority – and it was a repeat!
Munty: Yeh! Now I think about it was my ex’s catalyst for ‘teddies out the pram’ on more than one occasion. It’s some kind of proxy weapon. Less about dusty, more about a platform for opening hostilities.
Chubb: Dirty tricks and a dust up! Ha-ha! Told you it was a weapon.
Boz: Crikey, we’ll be sending Mr Dyson to the Hague on war crimes charges next! What’s the solution?
Chubb: Do some hoovering using the same reasoning as inflicted on you. I was told it wasn’t up to scratch, and it got re-done. I claimed I was trying my best and just wanted to help out. Advantage Chubb. I also popped the fuse out on certain days, but don’t kick the arse out of that one. I was asked nicely not to ‘help out’ during her programmes, and I was given the same return deal. Doesn’t solve the proxy weap ……
At this point two women came into the pub, weighed down with shopping bags and made their way across to the three men.
One of them, a blonde in leggings, addressed Chubb: Hey love, Me and Maria have picked up a few nice bits.
Chubb: Sounds nice, Kath. (His face did not match his words – without even knowing what she’d bought – and he was clearly working out how much room he had in the attic.)
Maria (looking at Boz): I won’t show you here, but I’ve bought some lovely ornaments, and they’re really on trend right now!
Boz grinned, although it looked more a grimace of pain, and nodded. (‘On trend’ has that effect on many people.)
Kath: And we’ve been looking* at new hoovers, Maria fancies a new one, and I know ours has been playing up, so you won’t have to fiddle about fixing it anymore, Dave (Chubb).
From where I sat I felt the lads in question die a little inside.
Munty (laughing): Hey Guys, Upgrades!
(* Girltalk for – I’ve picked my favourite, ordered it, paid up and it’ll be here a week on Monday.)
Images (bar those in the public domain) and Article Copyright © 2026 by L.C McCarthy
This is a work of fiction.
L C McCarthy 
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