Now just take a look at this guy, John thinks to himself as he punches his car horn. He doesn’t press it. Or even push at it. He literally punches the section of the steering wheel which is devoted to the horn sounding system. His raw emotion transmits. The hoot that comes out is a short loud angry sounding hoot. One to let the idiot in front know exactly what is thought about him.

            ‘GET OUT OF THE WAY YOU MORON!’ John shouts. Maybe his voice will exit his windscreen, glide seamlessly through the moving air and enter the other guy’s Ford Focus which is doing sixty nine on a motorway. Sadly it doesn’t. The car in front continues to drive just below the legal speed limit, oblivious to the vengeance he is creating. John drops a gear and swings out into the left hand lane. He doesn’t indicate or check his mirror. They must all know that he is angry and prone to taking action at the atrocity which is facing him. He presses down hard on the accelerator and the engine responds as it is used to doing. John quickly moves up beside the law abider and just before he pulls in front, he looks over at his enemy. He seems unaware that he has done anything wrong and is calmly staring at the road ahead.

            ‘OI!’ John shouts again. This time he waves his arm angrily in the law abider’s direction. It does the trick. He must have caught the odd movement in his peripheral and he glances over.

            “MOVE OUT OF THE *!?#ING WAY NEXT TIME’ John offers to the law abider who simply stares back, a completely confused expression on his face. John doesn’t waste time trying to make him understand his folly. He pulls ahead and cuts sharply in front of the Ford. Just for good measure, he taps the brakes. The Ford does the same, with a nervous weave close to the centre island. He flashes his brights. John smiles to himself. Returns a one finger salute in his rear view and takes off. Pedal to the metal, as they say. Another flash of light. This time it slightly blinds John. He wonders what the hell it was. Then he sees it. Becoming smaller and smaller in his wing mirror. The speed trap.