I still prefer the thought of the car crusher. It allows you to widen the target area. (I am thinking of the scene in "Goldfinger", where James Bond surveys a three-foot cube of metal which had recently been a car containing a recalcitrant crime syndicate boss, and remarks, "Well, you did say he had a pressing engagement").

One bit of aversion therapy I might try, if I can find an accomplice, is to borrow someone's bongo drums, and then re-enact Stan Freberg's hilarious takeoff of "The Banana-boat Song".

One session I regularly attend sported a tuba player at one time. This is not an instrument to be used lightly to accompany anything; the usual noise it produces can be mistaken from far off as, "I am proceeding on the starboard tack in reduced visibility". On the other hand, I haven't heard anything quite so enlivening as the tubaist rattling through "Mickey Mouse's Son and Daughter" (Viv Stanshull).

We have also suffered from an asthmatic saxophonist (yes, the beat dragged a little).