This week, our fellow skepchick Elyse played a little practical joke on the rest of us.Â I can’t, unfortunately, go into the details but suffice it to say that it was clever and funny and got most of us pretty well. :) And it got me thinking about how much I love pranking and the people who try to prank me.
What’s the best practical joke you’ve played on someone?
The Afternoon Inquisition (or AI) is a question posed to you, the Skepchick community. Look for it to appear daily at 3pm ET.
The boss put a brand new motorcycle together, took great care to seal all surfaces, replace all o-rings and seals and assembled the engine very carefully. It was a Harley-Davidson XR750, not known for being perfectly oil-tight. The bike was sitting on the stand, no fluids whatsoever in the motor other than a slight amount of assembly lube.
We pud a few drops of oil on the lowest point of the motor and a puddle underneath it…
Went into the office one weekend. Took down the trim and the door to my bosses office. Hung drywall, taped and mudded, textured the wall and painted it. So no more door to his office. Just a wall that looked like the other walls.
I placed a classified ad in the newspaper, on behalf of my dogs, giving Brian away to a good home. Contact was Brian’s cell.
Can I say, that is an AMAZING prank! I love it!
My own don’t come to mind as best, but when my husband was growing up in farm country he got a neighbor boy to pee on an electric fence. He told the kid it would make cool blue sparks. The kid said, “You do it.” “I can’t,” said Shaun, “I’m empty.”
Zap! The kid went running home, (thingie) flapping around, peeing and yelling, “Mommmmeeeee!”
Later he came back out and said to Shaun, “My mom says you have to go home now cause you’re not nice.”
We tried to plant marijuana seeds in the planters at my high school for our senior prank but they either didn’t take or were pulled out.
My grandfather however, as a lad, dis- and re-assembled a car in an apartment lobby in the 1930’s.
I have to be the sourpuss. I don’t play pranks or jokes or anything on other people because I hate them and don’t want them played on me. That’s the same reason I don’t throw or participate in surprise parties or restaurant singing or any of that humiliating nonsense. Do unto others, as they say. I hate that stuff, so I don’t do it to anyone else.
That said, I’m dreading my 30th birthday. The girls at work, well, they like to decorate…
@Vengeful Harridan (Elexina): “restaurant singing” is probably the worst thing our species has conceived, up to and including mass genocide.
@Elyse: Well he started it.
Mine is kinda boring. I used to have a stuffed animal that looked almost exacly like a real rat (that is, if you just kind of glimpsed it in the corner of your eye) and I kind of had a little bit of a pranking war with my friend where we tried to see who could scare each other more. I would place the rat at random places in my house where I knew she was likely to go, (my desk, the restroom, the kitchen) and I managed to fool her every.damn.time… you would think that eventually she would stop freaking out every time she saw the fake rat, but no. It’s also kind of strange that while she freaked out every time she thought there was a rat loose in the house, but had absolutely no problem playing with my pet hampster…
I’d also invite her over and say “when you get here, just come on in!” then turn off all the lights and hide under the stairs until the perfect moment to jump out and scare the bejeesus out of her. (hey, we were like, 16, this is what passed for a practical joke at the time.)
@movingshadow: You’re forgetting karaoke, which I’m certain is Japanese revenge for Hiroshima.
@Cleon: I dunno, though. Karaoke is a mostly consensual thing. You rarely get dragged up there sober and against your will. Restaurant singing, though… there ain’t no stoppin’ them once they get started, even if you ask them to stop. That should be illegal. Karaoke seems to be a pretty willing experience to me…
The best prank I ever pulled was convincing everyone in my fraternity that my roommate had knocked up his girlfriend (with help from from the girlfriend’s best friend).
The best prank I witnessed was better. A guy in my fraternity (let’s call him “A”) was filling out his resume. Another guy (call him “J”) told him he was going to correct something. Apparently “A” never looked it over and got some really weird questions when being interviewed, such as “what kind of places do you like to go to for fun?” After a while, the interviewers asked if “A” was in a fraternity. When “A” said yes, the interviewers told him they think a prank was played and slid his resume across the table. Next to “we HAVE to interview this guy” written in pen was a highlighted passage, “Goals: To suck the most **** as possible.”
He didn’t get the job, but had us in hysterics when he told us about the interview.
@Vengeful Harridan (Elexina): Unless your friends get you drunk, knowing you are going to be more likely to allow them to drag you to stage. My friends are evil.
@marilove: Ah, but you “allowed” them. And they are awful, awful people if they knowingly got you drunk so that they could get you to compromise your principles. Show me these friends, I show them my throat kick.
@jreedgt: I laughed so hard I am crying. Thank you for sharing that story.
@Vengeful Harridan (Elexina): Lol! Generally it involves, “Hey…I’ll buy you a drink!” And, you know, free booze? Cannot say no! Sneaky bastards.
@marilove: This also works if you want to get me to dance.
Once while spending the night with my cousins we snuck into the girls bedroom at night and salted their beds with coarse salt while they were sleeping in them.
I also once participated in a prank to switch out some friends beer stash in their apartment with diet pepsi. It was a pretty considerable stash
I once rigged several computers at work to play the awful Alan Jackson song “It’s 5 O’clock Somewhere” at precisely 5 PM at full volume, every day, for several days until I was ordered to make it stop.
My then-girlfriend and I were planning to get married when suddenly she was without a place to live. She thought her dad would freak out over cohabitation so we got tested for syphilis (that’s Alabama for you), got a license, and did a quicky marriage in front of a judge. (Best spent $30 of my life.) Then we moved in together. We had already made plans to have celebrations with our respective families, but we felt guilty about depriving our friends of a party at our expense.
The very next week we sent out a party invitations to all our friends. “Post marriage party. Food, beer, wine provided. No gifts, please.” We were a little bit disappointed when some wrapped boxes of assorted sizes started showing up, but what the heck. After a while, Scrooks, the prankster, encouraged us to start opening our gifts. The first (very large) box was a pillow… and a toaster. The second (very heavy) box was a brick… and a toaster. The third box, sadly, was just a toaster. Fourteen toasters. Eventually even my wife was amused. The ladies at Walmart, where nine of the toasters had been purchased, were in hysterics.
In my Freshman year of college, at an all-male Catholic school mind you, I had managed to convince the entirety of my dorm floor that the guy across the hall from me was a devout Jew. He was about as Roman Catholic as they get, but was an awesome sport about it and went so far as to find a fake yarmulke to display in his room. No one even seemed to put two-and-two together when he went up for Communion on Sundays …
I put Vaseline on the ear piece to my buddy’s phone at work.
I started dialing my cell to call his phone but before I could finish his phone rang.
Turns out his mom called him which was even better. It took a minute for him to get his ear cradled against the phone well enough to realize the Vaseline was on it.
Once he did though, the look on his face was priceless. It made him pause long enough that he had to explain to his mom that “my used-to-be-friend Matt put Vaseline on my phone!”
I wonder if there are any geocachers around here?
I published a puzzle cache that gives all evidence of being one of the toughest brain teasers ever. But the final is simply at the posted coords. All the bajillion clues in the puzzle are… nothing.
I will trust any skepticachers, should they read this here, to simply go find the cache and follow the suggestions on the cover of the log — NOT to share this info with their befuddled fellows….
@marilove: I usually make up my mind to go to kareoke, then, when I get there, hit the bar like I’m mad at it. After my 2 drink minimum-which I pretty much slam-I chose a song, which is pretty hard, since the majority of the songs I know are angry white boy songs, which would suck all the gay out of the room. So, I usually hit something made by a woman. My first kareoke in VA was “When god-fearing women get the blues”. Is that a skeptical sin worthy of confession?
I’m still close with my group of friends from middle and high school, and every year, we make pilgrimages from our respective post-college dwellings back to our origin point in New Jersey, where we spend a weekend kayaking, camping and catching up. One of my friends (herein refered to as “Jay”) attends a seminary in North Carolina with the goal of becoming a Lutheran minister (yes, this DOES make for some awkward conversation between the two of us). He’s a good guy despite our differences, although as such he’s a bit more conservative in his ways and means than the rest of us. We, the 9 of his friends to the left of his Christian sensibilities, decided to use this to our advantage.
In the middle of setting up camp, one of my friends, by far the most eccentric of the group, drops his pants and removes his shirt to reveal that all he’s wearing is a speedo – one of those sealskin-black, eurotrash style banana hammocks. He sneaks up behind our unfortunate subject and gives him a bear hug – and when Jay realizes what’s going, an he immediately turns sunburn red and erupts into nervous laughter.
Fast forward 45 minutes. My friend is still in a speedo, but the shock has worn off. That is, until the second friend drops trough to reveal that yes – all he’s wearing is a speedo. Another bear hug, another open-jawed blush session, another round of jeering from the rest of us.
At 5 minute intervals for the next half-hour, another one of my friends disappears into the woods, only to return clad only in a speedo. Jay’s nervous laughter becomes poorly-concealed moral terror.
Jay and myself are the only ones fully clothed by now. I’ve always been closer to Jay than the others, and I’ve also admittedly been kind of a wet-blanket type. When the latest pasty-skinned cabana boy emerges from his wilderness changing room, I announce to the spandex-clad crowd that I couldn’t believe that they’d do this, that they had crossed the line from funny to disgusting, and that I was going for a walk to clear my head.
You guessed it.
I returned, five minutes later, my lower plumbing uncomfortably profiled in spandex.
Nine speedo-clad guys proceeded to chop wood, swim, and liberally (ha!) apply sunscreen to one another’s backs. And one Lutheran seminary student went home with a story he could never tell him classmates.
Anyway, the moral of the story is that we’re terrible friends.
Long time ago, in a three-day training. The instructor had challenged us on Day One, saying he Could. Not. Be. Pranked. M hm.
On the evening before day three, I went to the drug store and found the musical greeting card with the most piercing, tinny rendition of “Music Box Dancer” I have ever heard.
I dissected this to extract the chip and the little scrap of cardboard that holds the contacts open. Normally, this slides away when you open the card and back into place when you close the card, presuming you have NOT sliced the card to ribbons first. I attached a 15′ length of clear nylon sewing thread to the cardboard and slid it into place. Stuck a wad of putty to the back of the chip. OK, equipment ready.
Sent an email to all my classmates asking them to be SURE to talk to me at lunch the next day. At lunch I informed them simply… “no matter what you know you hear, you Don’t. Hear. Anything. OK, team ready.
During lunch, classroom empty. Chip stuck under desk at forward (away from Teacher) center position. Thread run to my seat. OK, all systems go.
1:00. Instruction resumes. 1:20. My foot slides back, pulling on an invisible thread. A 3/4” long slip of cardboard falls to the floor.
Music Box Dancer as played on Thumbelina’s piccolo fills the room. The sound is so think and tinny that nobody can even get a directional fix on it. The room is filled with students looking bewildered at the teacher who keeps asking, “what is that?”
I once convinced a group of celebrities, actors, and other poor schleps that 75 million years ago that Xenu, the ruler of a Galactic Confederacy, brought billions of people to earth, and detonated bombs in volcanoes…and based on all that, they should give me tons and tons of money.
I nominate Zoltan for COTW. :)
“I once convinced a group of celebrities, actors, and other poor schleps that 75 million years ago that Xenu, the ruler of a Galactic Confederacy, brought billions of people to earth, and detonated bombs in volcanoesâ€¦and based on all that, they should give me tons and tons of money.”
Only time I prank is April Fool’s Day, and usually one particular teacher. One time I hid a device in the false ceiling of her classroom, playing bird sounds at random times.
Another time I had our principal ask her if a college exchange student from Switzerland could visit for the day (who turned out to be my daughter with a fake accent.)
Took a capture of her computer screen, turned the image upside down, then hid her real icons.
(Tame compared to what some of you others have pulled!)
One day in middle school the teacher left the room right in the middle of class. She didn’t come back for what seemed to us a very long time. So I convinced my classmates to play a prank. We took every piece of furniture in the room and turned in backwards. A couple of students went up to the board and rewrote everything on it backwards. Then we went back to our desks and sat there like nothing was wrong. She came in, turned bright red, and walked back out again. A few minutes later the principal came in, but before she could get a word out the bell rang. We each picked up the desk we were in, turned it back around, and then walked out.
No one at that school ever left us alone again.
One year we had a tech in our building that was a complete bitch. So I snuck into one of the labs and changed the alert beeps on each machine to a curse word (as uttered by one of the characters from Pulp Fiction). It took me about 1o minutes. She was so awful at her job that it took her several days to clean the sounds off the machines. She always thought a student had done it.
My sister and her boyfriend had been dating for eight years. We all just assumed they would eventually marry. So one April Fool’s Day I was going to tell my Mom they had broken up. YUK-YUK! Big Joke! When she came home I began: “Mom! I’ve got some bad news about Lisa and Doug.” Suddenly her breathing changed and I knew she thought they were dead! I was horrified at what I had done and instantly told her there was nothing wrong and it was just a joke gone bad. I have never played a practical joke since. Not really the kind of story you were hoping for, was it?
My sisters once played a joke on my, convincing me that they had made chocolate chip cookies when, in fact, they had raisins. You can guess that I don’t like raisins so I vowed to get them back.
A week later, I took their room while they slept. I took the dresser drawers. The stuff on the dressertops. The nightstand. The radio. The laundry basket. The pictures off the walls. I left only them, the shells of the dressers and their alarm clock.
At some point during the process, my father woke up and quietly asked what I was doing. “Nothing,” I replied but the pile of furniture in the living room made it obvious.
When morning came, I had already left for work. When my sister’s alarm clock went off, my dad (in the next room” turned to my mom and told her to listen because he knew what was coming.
“Beth. Beth. Wake up.”
“Wake up. Something’s. . . . wrong.”
It was an epic win.
Oh yeah. And I set up a fake psychic casting call at my husband’s work.
Unfortunately, the psychics saw it coming.
It was the summer of 1980 and I was at Boy Scout camp. One of my fellow scouts had a strange notion about the power structure of the world of the time, stating that the order was U.S., the Soviet Union, Great Britain and South Africa. Why he thought South Africa was the fourth most powerful nation on the Earth, I don’t know but even being a kid I knew that it wasn’t true and something had to be done about it.
Since the Iranian hostage crisis was ongoing, I let slip that I had heard on the radio that the Ayatollah Khomeini had somehow obtained an atomic bomb and had sailed it into Johannesburg and set it off. I didn’t realize myself that Johannesburg was not actually on the coast in my spur-of-the-moment fabrication, but that apparently didn’t matter because he didn’t realize it either. I didn’t have a radio myself and said that I had only overheard it so he should find someone with a radio to learn for sure.
Now, if you know the Boy Scouts you will also know the story of the Left Handed Smoke Shifter or the Spaghetti Bender wherein a novice is sent off to another campsite for a needed item only to learn that the neighboring campsite had loaned theirs to someone else. They send the camper to someone else who, ralizing the ruse, sends the camper yet somewhere else.
Well, I didn’t plan it that way but as soon as this scout went to another campsite looking for a radio so he could hear the news about the nuking of South Africa, they immediately realized that this was just such a wild goose chase and claimed that they didn’t have a radio but that they though the campsite up on the hill might have one. The campers on the hill claimed that they did have a radio but the batteries had gone dead and they hadn’t yet bought any at the camp store. At the camp store, the clerk claimed to be entirely out of batteries, even having heard in advance that this scout was coming and hiding what stock he had.
After several hours of this, my scoutmaster told me to put an end to it.
Honestly, though, I did not expect it to conflate into a camp-wide conspiracy.
Two favorites of mine are the following:
1. When I was in college I convinced a graduate student to let me have a fertilized egg. I simply placed it with the other eggs in our refrigerator, carefully remembering which one it was of course. The next morning, a Saturday, my beloved and very cheerful roommate decided to make himself french toast. There he was, singing and dancing to the music, as he joyously prepared the ingredients. He decided to use three eggs. He cracked the first two with a flair – one handed of course! Alas, he should have stopped there. As the red goo ruined his first two eggs, his breakfast, his morning, I laughed with my other roommate, whom by the luck of the draw was able to laugh with me, instead of being traumatized by me. Ahhh … good times.
2. I am a wonderful father. Just ask my youngest loves me dearly and … whom I happened to play this prank on. He was 13 at the time. He walked achingly into the house, hunched over, as he accidently caught a lacrosse ball between his own wickets. It wasn’t a bad injury, quite minor in fact. But , because I am both his beloved father as well as a trustworthy physician, he asked me is there anything else he can do for the injury in addition to ice. I thought and said , very seriously, ” of course … pectin!” He said, “pectin?” I said, “oh yes … and the good thing is that it’s in many household products.” We looked in the refigerator and lo and behold, we found strawberry jam with PECTIN!!! He looked at me, not believing me for an instant. But I played my “look … I’m a doctor” card with perfection. I encouraged him to wear the strawberry jam overnight as he slept. The next morning he indeed felt better – sticky … but better. For my oldest son’s birthday, about one month later, I gave him the best birthday present ever. I let HIM tell my youngest the truth about pectin on a pecker. Yup … I’m a GREAT Dad. Ask my eldest!
Best I can claim is actually writing “Gullible” on the ceiling. I’m sure it’s not that original, though.
I have always loved pranks and there are two that come to mind right now.
My brother is 6 years younger than me and he was always a heavy sleeper and snorer. One morning I was feeling mean and sadistic and filled a syringe with tobasco. Our mother was a nurse. I then ran up the stairs and into his room to see him still sawing logs. I walked over to him inserted the syringe into his mouth and shot 5 ccs of tobasco onto his tongue. He woke up screaming and spitting. I am 6 years older than him so I just watched and laughed without fear of reprisals then.
Another prank was from my college days in the deep south. I managed to get a bunch of the chad from the punch cards in the computer lab and proceeded to put them in the window fans of every friend that wasn’t home or wasn’t looking. Several of them turned their fans on when they came home scattering small paper rectangles all over their apartments, clothes, and beds. I didn’t get everyone that day because the word got out quickly of what happened to a few hapless souls. I eventually paid for my fun but that is another story.
There are also the classic pranks from the navy involving valve bluing, phones, binoculars, radar hoods, and rings on peoples faces.
My mother told me a good one. She is a nurse and has been working in the same hospital in the nursery for 25 years. She told me that they have some dolls that look remarkably lifelike that they use to train the student nurses. Occasionaly they will put one in a crib with the others near the windows. When they get a good crowd of onlookers all cooing over the newborns one of the nurses will pick the doll up out of the crib and “Accidently” drop it on its head on the floor.
@Elyse: how do you rate giving some drunken canadian your friend’s phone number so he can drunk call her? Oh and said canuck was aware of the switcheroo but did it anyways :P
Oh yeah… there was this one time, a Canadian skeptic Tweeted that he wanted to do some drunk dialing and asked people to message him their numbers if they wanted to receive a call.
I sent him the number of his local Skepchick.
She was pissed. He…. remembers… surprisingly.
I love a good prank. I really do.
Several, and this is not my best, but one I like:
When I was dating my now-wife, she told me she was born on July the 16th. Later, when we were doing the paperwork for marriage, I found out the Birth Certificate says July the Sixth. She insisted that her mom knew best and all that, but for this reason I teased her for 4 or 5 years, trying to act uninterested about the mixed dates, until the occasion when a lot of my family from abroad came to town and I somehow managed our son not to spill the beans AND the family to ride in a motorcade to arrive in perfect and silent cue to the house.
Now, my wife is *incredibly* serviceable, so when she saw the first ones entering the door I bet she began to worry for something to offer, but in a matter of seconds the house was FULL of people – my parents, brothers, sisters, husbands, wives, sons, daughters and the entire Normal Luboff Choir! – singing and bringing pies and snacks and refreshments. Even *her* family arrived later (they are famous for not being on time or even attending, but honestly not in a bad way).
I was about to ROTFL when a brother told me there was no ice, so I went out in the car and left her sobbing in emotion in the arms of my mother.
Gee. Now that I think of it, its about time for another one!
For one April 1, I got on my friend’s computer while he wasn’t looking. I took a screenshot of his desktop, saved it, set it as his wallpaper, then hid his icons. So, he had no idea why he couldn’t click anything. Got pretty mad, actually. Heh.
For another, I changed the homepage on my web site to say that I had shut it down due to copyright violation threats from the RIAA. I had 4 of my friends get pretty upset about that.
Hmm…I’m beginning to think that I may just be a jerk.
My favorite prank is one that I’ve used several times. It never fails in it’s evil simplicity. I simply switch the salt and sugar in their respective containers and wait for someone to sit down to a nice breakfast…
@JESherman: That reminds me of another prank gone wrong.
My daughters’ babysitter was always playing pranks. One she played on her own young sons was to take a fake finger, put ketchup on the “cut off” end, and pretend to cut off her finger while making salad. That one backfired when the boys freaked out…
Some of us in college who were TA’s had keys to various parts of our building. In a fit of boredom and anxiety over mid-terms one weekend, three of us were playing building hide-and-seek as a study break (our department provided the majors with a room to study in), which included locking ourselves in darkened rooms. (Yeah, stupid – we were jittery.)
At one point, one friend – let’s call her Anne – actually veered off to the VAX lab in our building to check something (yes, I’m dating myself here), unbeknownst to me and the third friend playing our game – let’s call him Bill. Bill eventually gave up, and wondered where she was, and joked that Anne was probably lying in the bottom of a stairwell somewhere (knowing she wasn’t, having checked the stairwells). He went home, and Anne surfaced to find me, explaining about her VAX lab diversion.
On the way over to the dining hall, it occurred to me that Bill really didn’t know what had happened to Anne. So over dinner, we made up a little scenario. I got back to my dorm, called Bill in tears, saying Anne HAD taken a fall, was incoherent, nauseous and a little dizzy but refused to let me take her to the ER. I didn’t know what to do, did he have any suggestions?
(At this point he should have KNOWN something was up – growing up as a doctor’s brat and a long-time candy-striper, I was known for NOT freaking out about medical shit.)
Bill told me to calm down and he’d call her at her room. At this point, he called Anne, where she acted spacy and apparently took his abject apologies over not looking for her harder. Where she then started laughing and told him she was just fine.
Bill apparently hung up without saying a word and called ME back…with a few choice words. He said he knew at that point there was no way Anne could have thought up something so evil, so it had to be me :D
Also from college. In a fit of blowing-off-steam-from-finals-week-studying, a friend in my major – let’s call him John – was going around our dorm with a super soaker. And he got me…while sitting at my desk, deep in paper writing at my personal computer (an expensive and finicky rarity in the late 1980’s), with my suede jacket hanging over the back of the chair.
My belongings miraculously survived without lasting damage, but I was seriously pissed off. I wouldn’t have cared if he’d hit me anywhere else, but if he’d gotten my computer (and if you don’t remember, PC’s were not terribly hardened back then – I had to park the hard drive if I moved the CPU across the room) I would have lost the updated final draft I was writing on a paper worth 1/3 of my grade for an important 4 credit class in my major.
It so happened John was going through a 4 credit special project with one of our professors. The prof in question had set it up so even though there was a lot of research involved, there was no paper. He didn’t want to read one, John didn’t want to write one – instead, there were 1 hour meetings three times a week where there was intense discussion and questioning.
The prof had a good sense of humor, so I stuck my head in his office the morning after the super-soaker attack, explained what happened and asked if it was at all possible that he had been mistaken – John DID need to write a paper after all? A rather large one, in fact? The prof laughed, said that could very well be the case, and told me to send John to him, telling me to elaborate about how angry he was.
I did, pointing out the prof was grumbling that John hadn’t turned in his paper. John sped off in a hurry to the prof’s office, where the professor questioned him about this paper – the 50 page length, the explicit citations, the semi-professional binding he expected, etc., etc….
Apparently he couldn’t keep up the joke anymore as John’s face kept getting paler and paler (it was Wednesday’s of finals week – we all had to be out of the dorms by 5 pm Friday). John came tearing out of the office, filled up a 16 oz cup of water and was looking to douse me with it…and thought the better of it. He said he normally would have escalated and retaliated, but he just couldn’t think of anything to top it…
While at a drunken party in college, we decided we wanted to be a little naughty but didn’t want to do anything with expensive consequences. About 12 of us raided the construction site next door. We moved a bunch of 16 foot sewer pipes to spell out: http://tinyurl.com/kmxzo2
Due to various statute of limitations, I am not at liberty to post…
Sadly, I don’t have the imagination for a good practical joke, so I have to steal a friends, we’ll call him Earl. Earl was a plumber in the navy, and for a time had a Lt giving him a lot of crap.
Finally, Earl took some navy peanut butter, wrapped it up with toilet paper, and stuck it under the sink in one of the bathrooms he was responsible for. Sure enough the Lt called him into the “filthy” restroom, pointed at the peanut butter, demanding to know what it was.
Earl said “It looks like sh**”. Picked it up and sniffed it, “Smells like sh**”. He then took a big bite…
The Lt threw up, ran out of the bathroom, and never bothered Earl again.
One night we were very bored waiting for the last flight of the night to come in. It got later and later…and we got more and more bored…We finally got sick of waiting and started to think of things to do…
So the four of us each took a big breath of helium and sang the “Lollypop Guild” song from The Wizard of OZ over the airport PA system…
Was a part of this:
Well, I haven’t played one on someone, but I got played at. A friend of mine and my brother used my passionate love of chocolate, my achilles heel, in order to feed me unweetened chocolate, which is extrememly bitter.
The best practical joke I’ve ever been involved with is more of a hoax than a practical joke.
A friend and I convinced sci-fi fans across the country – and some overseas – that Christians were out to GET THEM.
The whole thing is documented at:
When I first started out in practice I had the misfortune to work with a very religious, very pious local doc who was very up himself. It was a small town in PA. Eventually I had enough of him and put a bumper sticker on his truck that said “people suck”. He drove around with it for months.
Another one I wish I could take the credit for was played by some students of a friend of mine.
Dave was a Physio teacher at a University in Georgia. As a professor he would occasionally be asked to write testamonials for books yet to be published. One of his students got ahold of a flyer advertising a book for sexual advice for physically handicapped people , and photoshopped a comment into it from Dave.
It said “fantastic book , even got a few pointers for myself!” Signed it with his name then left it in his mailbox with a note asking him how the advice was working.
Dave spent days tracking down the publisher of the book so angry that someone would use his name like that. When he finally got the guy on the phone , it was clear to Dave he ‘d been had.
Another fun prank I pulled back in the day: I was contracting at a telecom in Denver. Considering the weather there, lots of folks simply don’t bother washing their cars during the winter, as a snowstorm will come through, and nothing makes a car filthier than driving through snow for a day.
Anyhow, another contracter there drove an Eclipse. I come in one morning, and spot his car in the parking lot, just filthy dirty. And the hatchback on it had this nice, about three-inch tall, end to end flat area. Prime for taking a finger and writing some text into the dirt. So across the entire width of that hatchback, I wrote:
CHILDREN TASTE GOOD
A couple of days later, I can’t take it anymore and I fess up to him. He’s like “oh, it was you” and proceeds to tell me about sitting at a traffic light, when someone behind him (spotting the text) gets all worked up, starts blowing his horn, jumps his car up ONTO THE CURB to the right so he can pull up next to this guy and curse him loudly and vigorously.
Once my co-worker noticed the text, he said he just shrugged and left it there a few days. He’s that kinda guy, could care less of what Joe Sixpack thought. :P
You must log in to post a comment.