Corrupt Read online

I begin flicking through the channels and find one of those crappy fishing shows. The actual act of fishing is bearable but those damn shows always have a presenter that seems like a know it all wanker, especially that little blonde bogan looking scrotum. Mind you to be a T.V presenter you pretty much have to be a walking erection. As I’m sitting there feeling superior the presenter is talking about the amount of pressure this certain line can be put under, then it hits me. If I was to attach a series of ‘z’ nails to a fishing line I would have myself a makeshift tyre deflation device. I could chuck a weight on the end so that I could throw it across the road or have it already set up on the other side of the road, so when the target vehicle approaches, all I have to do is pull the line and we will have deflation.

  A sickly excitement fills my body. I would have to make sure that the running end of the line doesn’t get tangled up in my hands or fingers. I wouldn’t want to de glove any of my fingers and not doing it directly outside my place would also be a smart move. I know I’ve seen some ‘z’ nails lying around the garage along with some fishing line.

  This little morbid idea is a good excuse to get me out of the house too. I wonder how far I need to space the ‘z’ nails for it to be effective. There’s definitely going to be some trial an error. Somehow I don’t think google or youtube will have the answer.

  After rummaging through the garage I find enough fishing line along with a box of z nails. I ease myself down on the back deck and begin to tie the line to the ‘z’ nails and space them about 25 centimetres apart from each other. It takes me awhile but I end up with roughly four meters of fishing line with about 24 ‘z’ nails attached. I stand up, make sure that none of the neighbours are about or peering over the fence and begin a trial. I throw the line out and it lands in a tangled heap on the ground. Shit, I’m going to have to try another method. I place the line down and pull it back towards me. This doesn’t work that well either! It would have to be tied to an anchor for it to be effective. Looking at this little destructive device I remember that I’ve forgotten to attach a sinker at the end. I search through and old tackle box to find a substantial sinker. I attach another length of line to the end so that I have enough line to twirl in the air before launching it across the road.

  I stand on the driveway, again checking that no one is watching. In my left hand I’ve carefully draped the ‘z’ nails and line. I begin to twirl the weight in my right hand, thankfully the line is quite dense as I can feel the sinker stretching on the line as it spins around. I watch the sinker spinning around, waiting for the exact moment to open my right hand, releasing my grip on the line as the sinker comes around to about 8 o’clock, I completely open my right hand. The sinker flies through the air, the line takes the weight and pulls the rest from my left hand. The first metre or two deploys with no problems at all, the rest is just a mess. I think four metres of ‘z’ nails is overkill. I’m only going to be able to effectively hold and deploy a couple of metres, so I may as well remove the excess nails. At the speed this car is travelling, I only need to deflate one tyre and the less line means less evidence to try and clean up.

  After the alterations have been made I place the device in a box under the table by the front door. It’s positioned so that when the time comes, all I have to do is pick it up and run out the door.

  Chapter Eleven