- Joined
- Nov 14, 2017
A shank, blood? Seriously?
If you want to survive on the gentrifying streets of Hackney, you need to ditch your prison yard mentality and get yourself a spork. I boosted mine from the counter of a chippy (won't say which one, don't want to get the owners into trouble. Suffice to say, they're shipping them in boxes of 200, so you know they're serious when they talk about expanding into the neighboring Manor Chicken Emporium).
It's 100% Chinese plastic so it doesn't show up on metal detectors.
The three, 1/2 inch prongs are capable of penetrating the armoured skin of a battered sausage. Ask yourself, when you're lying on the pavement, bleeding out, and the ghost of 2pac is ordering you to come into the motherfucking light, would you rather be on the receiving end of one easily-manageable puncture wound, or three smaller ones?
A 3/4 inch serrated blade can tear a ragged gash across a piece supermarket own-brand white bread in no less than eight attempts. A slice of white bread is about a centimetre thick, so imagine what that blade is going to do you.
Sporks have been used by members of the SAS, while off-duty, so they don't get their cool fingerless gloves greasy when they're eating their victory fish and chip suppers. They look baller as hell when you hold them slightly sideways, like you don't give a fuck.
Get yourself a spork, blood, and watch all those paper gangsters part like waves before you in the street.
How much does a spork license cost?