Best Prank

What’s the best prank you’ve ever pulled on someone?

Post your response (500 words or fewer) in the comments below.

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62 thoughts on “Best Prank

  1. Papa Troll

    Never really did pranks so I wrote a story instead. Sorry.

    Everything was in place, set, and ready to spring. Her arrival was a mere minute or two away. First the door, then the trip, to the floor, then the rest, but heed the call, the whisper, the test.

    “What is it we are trying to accomplish?” Such a big voice from such a tiny insect with an even tinier whisper.

    “Revenge!” I set my teeth on a grind, wiping the drool that dribbled down my chin. It had been weeks. Complacency had set in, and our victim would be caught unaware. I looked at the bug, “Do not toy with my morality little bug. I will squish you for good measure.”

    “A good lot that would do you,” his reply smugly gave me a light slap on my cheek of false promises.

    “Be gone”, I said, “I’m not the boy who needed you, carved from wood, and bustling with foolish notions of truth and deceit. This here is just rewards on a dish served cold. I will get my dessert.”

    “Accompanied by that slight mildly sour taste of regret, I wager,” he wagered.

    “Pish and Posh, by gosh,” I stammered. “Just be off with you.”

    “Her hip isn’t at the full hundred, you know,” he mentioned. “Aren’t you taking a risk with this?”

    I could hear the roar, squeak and squealing from Aunt Sara’s shiny metallic emerald green Buick behemoth as she bludgeoned her way up the drive way, stopping within a grasshopper’s wing of hitting the garage door. She parked as bad as she drove.

    “She’s here,” the bug stated the obvious.

    I chose not to acknowledge. For here was the moment. I could taste the mud, the straw, and what I still to this day hope it wasn’t what I thought it was. My neck jerked spasmodically as I lurched at the memory. Aunt Sara’s homemade brownies, a cruel trick, Auntie, now it’s my turn.

    From the vantage point I afforded myself by the couch, I could peek through the venetian blinds, and see her ropey brown braid swing haphazardly around as she hacked and cough, but managed to maintain control of the lit cigarette that clung to her lip. She spat on the floor, and slung that electric blue leather purse over her shoulder as she made her way to the front door.

    “It’s not too late to…” the bug began.

    Too late.

    A shock! A gasp! The cigarette drops from her frozen and surprised lips. She curses loudly, and smashes the door open, and trips as steps inside on the rope I had set at the first step. As she fell face forward, I finally begin to realize the error of my ways. The rug concealed several marbles to add an extra bonus to the fall. I heard a pitiful moan as she hit the rug, and lay still.

    “You’ve killed her!” exclaimed the bug.

    My heart stopped. I killed Aunt Sara. I could smell the cigarette smoldering on the carpet. I put it out with my foot and then I ran to Aunt Sara. She had several round red marks on her face, and her eyes were burning through my skull.

    “So, you like to play pranks?” Her question sent shivers down my spine as she reached up, and grabbed my ear.

    Cringing in pain, I learned that revenge isn’t always the answer. I wanted to share this with the bug, but he was nowhere to be seen.

    1. Kerry Charlton

      Oh mystery you have created and puzzlement along with it. How many clues did you lay, but with all my wisdom still operating I haven’t the slightest idea who the MC is. But it was a delicious trip anyway. Thanks for an early push this morning.

  2. rle

    I’ve never been overly fond of pranks. It may well be the result of a childhood spent on the receiving end of an array of practical jokes, ranging from mild to utterly disgusting. I guess I was an easy target. Being short in stature, I cold never keep up with the big boys, and my quiet good nature was often mistaken for slow wit. I was generally always a good sport and eventually became close friends with a number of my classmates whose pranks had been among the worst during elementary school.

    Fast forward ten years.

    I was one of those lucky enough(or unlucky depending on how you look at it) to be able to both work and attend college full time. The company I worked for owned over twenty retail shops in my hometown. Needless to say, our quaint little town had become a tourist trap. I had the good fortune(or misfortune) to supervise a group of roving janitors who, between the hours of eleven and seven, cleaned all of the company owned facilities.

    Although during the day the streets of town were often as congested as Midtown Manhattan, during the night they were as quiet as a church mouse, except for the dozen or so of us, and the Deputy Marshall.

    Deputy Scott was a lot like many of us who roamed the streets at night, young and green behind the ears, ready to prove himself worthy at his first position as a ‘real cop.’ He was barrel chested, tight lipped, and gruff, largely leaving us to our work, only stopping to chat briefly, and only when it pertained to pressing law enforcement matters.

    As time passed, myself and members of my crew exchanged dialogue with Deputy Scott on an increasingly frequent basis, slowly learning he was actually a fun loving guy, who really liked pulling pranks. He never did anything destructive or out of line. Among his favorites was sneaking in the buildings and hiding our supplies, covering our headlights with black tape, and tying a string of aluminum cans to our bumper. After several months of this, we decided it was time for retaliation.

    One of the shops the company owned sold outdoor garden and yard decor, including beautiful hand painted, life sized Canadian geese made out of plywood. After a night of careful planning, we decided to block the entire street with a whole flock of them. The next night, with Scott safely on the other end of town, we quickly placed two staggered rows of wooden geese, a dozen in all, across the main drag, completely blocking both lanes. Sure enough, like clockwork, ten minutes later, here comes our trusty Deputy Marshall. He slowly rolled up to the roadblock, exited the cruiser, shook his head, and gathered up every wooden goose and returned them to their respective shop.

    Scott never said a word about the incident, but he got his revenge. Two nights later I found the same twelve geese in the front seat, back seat, and trunk of my company car. The silly pranks continued for nearly two years, until I left to start my business. Eventually the company I worked for went broke and moved out of town, yielding the streets back to the solitude of my youth. Scott and I have remained good friends for twenty-five years. He’s the Chief of Police now and we both do our work during the light of day, but we still sometimes meet for coffee and relive the shenanigans of the graveyard shift in small town USA.

    ————————

    I know it wasn’t really much of a prank, but it brought back some fond memories.

    1. Peri Winkle

      This is the best kind of prank — the kind that results in a shared laugh and a bond that lasts for twenty five years. The image of rows of wooden Canadian geese blocking the road is very funny, but not as funny as a car full of Canadian geese!

      I enjoyed your depiction of small town life, and I think the good luck/bad luck dichotomy is an interesting one to explore.

  3. Peri Winkle

    THE SCOOTER PIE INCIDENT

    My younger brother KJ was the cute one in our family, with hair the color of an Irish Setter, large brown eyes and a rapid-fire style of speech that was often outpaced by his even quicker intellect. At six years old, KJ was particularly adorable when he scoured his room for pennies to buy our Dad the best Christmas gift he could imagine — a box of Scooter Pies, that chocolate-marshmallow-graham cracker hockey puck of deliciousness known almost everywhere else as a Moon Pie.

    “Just what I always wanted!” Dad exclaimed, unwrapping the brick-shaped box. “I’ll treasure it always.”

    That statement turned out to be more true than Dad realized. He never did eat the Scooter Pies, preferring instead to preserve this memento of his youngest child’s affection. The box lay untouched until the following Christmas when KJ, perhaps motivated by the genuine appreciation his gift had earned, decided a repeat performance was in order.

    “Another box of Scooter Pies!” Dad exclaimed. Mom informed him that it was in fact the same box of Scooter Pies, to which Dad replied “Just what I always wanted!”

    Thus a bizarre family tradition was born. Every year, KJ would re-gift Dad with the same aging box of Scooter Pies. Eventually Burry’s stopped making them and the vintage box became a dubious family heirloom. Sometimes we would shake the box and wonder if the contents had either fossilized or crumbled to dust.

    Seventeen years later, a Christmas miracle occurred. Mom returned from a shopping trip gleefully waving a brand new box of the extinct Scooter Pies which had magically appeared in the supermarket. I wish I could take credit for the prank that followed, but it was Mom who was the mastermind, with all of us adult children in on it.

    That Christmas, just like always, Dad unwrapped the ceremonial Scooter Pies and exclaimed “Just what I always wanted!” And just like always, we laughed and speculated on the degree of decomposition taking place wthin the sealed box. But unlike every other year, KJ announced that it was about time we found out. Before Dad could react, KJ ripped the outer wrapping off the box and began handing out Scooter Pies.

    The stunned look on Dad’s face turned to horror as we began eating them.

    “Have you lost your minds?” Dad couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

    “Actually they’re quite good,” I said, wiping the crumbs from my lips.

    “Yeah, those things have so many preservatives in them, they could probably survive the apocalypse ” said my older brother.

    “Here, have one” said Mom, handing Dad the box.

    “But then who will drive you all to the hospital?” Dad was on his feet now, convinced he was going to have to save us all from food poisoning and madness.

    In retrospect, we probably shouldn’t have done that to a man with a heart condition but we didn’t let him panic for too long before admitting it was a prank. In the end, we had a good laugh, enjoyed some relatively fresh Scooter Pies, and all was well.

    Now in his nineties, Dad still looks forward to his favorite Christmas gift each year.

      1. Kerry Charlton

        Boy you hit a recharge buttom JM. A moon pie, an RC Cola, a 55 Ford Sunliner and a girl with soft eyes, a cashmere sweater and crinolines and a moonlight night on Biscayne Bay is my idea of heaven.

        1. Peri Winkle

          Glad it brought back fond memories, Kerry. If you google Scooter Pies vs. Moon Pies, you will find a raging online debate about which was better. I think it depends on where you grew up. Scooter Pies were a North East thing, named aftter NY Yankees shortstop Phil ” Scooter” Rizzuto. I think they stopped making them sometime in the 80s. My Dad’s box should be in the Smithsonian.

    1. ReathaThomasOakley

      Wonderful! Reminded me of the annual box of chocolate covered cherries my brother would put under the tree for my mother. Somehow by Christmas they would all be eaten. He would be overcome by temptation.

  4. igonzales81

    Sadly, this is a true story, though the names of the individuals involved have been changed for their protection. And for mine.
    ———————————————————————————————————————————————————-
    “You ever seen a drunken seagull?”

    I tried to keep my eyes on my textbook, pretending that the study of Plato’s “The Cave” really was that engrossing, but I couldn’t help glancing from beneath my brows.

    Ben looked around at the rest of our study group, eyes shining with private amusement. “Seriously, any of you ever seen what a drunk seagull does?”

    Cammy looked up from her phone with a sigh. “What a dumb question. How would a seagull ever get drunk, anyway?”

    Ben shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe if it ate something fermented. You know.”

    “Fermented?” Doug tore his eyes away from the new foreign exchange student. From Belgium. “Like berries or something?”

    “Yeah. Berries or something.” Ben was barely keeping the smirk off his face.

    I didn’t dare look up, much less meet anyone’s eyes. “Could we just get back to the school work, huh?”

    “No, no; this is a serious question. Now, the birds don’t actually get drunk, see,” Ben was smiling openly now. “They just sort of… lose control of themselves.”

    Cammy scrunch her face up in puzzlement. “So they, like, fly into stuff? That’s horrible!”

    Ben shook his head. “No, they don’t fly into stuff.” He took a breath, prepared to launch into a more detailed explanation, when a commotion came from outside the study lounge.

    A moment later, Megan poked her head into the room. “Hey, guys, have you looked outside? The parking lot looks like a snowstorm hit, only it’s not snow.” She disappeared from the doorway. Bad news had found a dedicated messenger.

    I followed the group to the windows. Sure enough, every car in the lot was liberally streaked with gull lime, all the way to the seawall that separated the lot from the Eastern Channel. The local car wash was going to make a killing. I could see Mr. Lane, the normally soft spoken psychology professor, yelling and gesturing, trying to scare off the woozy birds. Even from this distance I could read his lips, and wondered if he kissed his kids with that mouth.

    All eyes went to Ben, who stood at the window, a look of surprise on his face that was as fake as a three-dollar bill.

    “Will you look at that?” he said with a whistle. “Winter came early.” He hurried for the doorway. “Well, I gotta go. I’m glad I parked in the back lot today. See you all Thursday.”

    There was no mention of the beef roast he’d doctored with vodka and left on the rocks above the high tide mark, and certainly no apology to those whose cars were suddenly a whole lot whiter.

    But that was okay, because I hadn’t told him that I’d seen him set up his little prank.

    Or that I’d moved his car back to the front lot.

      1. Kerry Charlton

        Hi igonzales81. What a clever come back
        I had something similar with.birds. probably 400/black birds landed in my.back yard one fall. We have a large concrete and mermaid fountian in the center and they took turns after eating the small black berries off my hedges
        They were there probably an hour but it took guys several high power washes to clean the fountain, especially themermaid in.hrr altogether.

    1. Peri Winkle

      Well played, igonzales, and well written too. I found it difficult to tell my prank story with more showing than telling, but you struck a good balance here.

  5. Kerry Charlton

    THE GREAT SNIPE HUNT

    In nineteen sixty one, I moved my family to a new neighborhood in Dallas. I was still wet behind the ears about Texas and traditions. I met John Murphy who moved in down the street. He came from Chicago and I from Philadelphia.. Neither one of us had ever ridden a horse or tried a boot on, so we were ripe for a picking.

    At the first neighborhood meeting we meet two good- ol‘-boys. Rob Boy and Billy Bob. They were dressed like dime store cowboys, for I had seen enough John Wayne movies to know the difference. We were invited to go hunting with them the next weekend. I was expecting a ranch., vast and beautiful with bountiful deer and wild hogs, slim hip women in western jeans with tighter blouses and Spanish eyes to die for. …….

    “We‘re going snipe hunting,?” John asked. “What in hell are snipe?’

    “Oh, they’re elusive, nocturnal creatures, hard to catch.” Billy Bob said.

    I copped a look at John’s face and realized he was clean hooked for a ride.

    ‘Do I let this happen to a good friend or not?’ Lord, how I hated to but I just couldn’t help it. But then I became seriously evil. ’Could I get the natives also?’ Gad I was brilliant, I didn’t care if they never spoke to me again. First I’d let John have his baptism in Texas lore and then we’d combine forces and slay the ‘Good Old’s.’

    A moon lit Saturday night arrived with buzzing mosquitoes and we took off around in Billy Bob’s Ford pickup at ten o’clock for Denton, Texas, 30 miles north of Dallas. We stopped at an open field leading to deep woods. We were told to stand close to the forest and hold garbage sacks open while Billy Bob and Rob Boy went into the woods, shouting and yelling at the top of their lungs to frighten the snipe to run into the open field. We were told they, the snipe would hide in the garbage sacks to escape the noise and apparent danger. .

    I watched over my shoulder as John held the bag in great anticipation. In the background, I heard a car start gently and pull away. So went Billy Bob and Rob Boy. I imagined their laughing their rear ends off as they abandoned us. .

    After another hour or two, I couldn’t contain myself any longer. John was wavering from standing so long, I thought he might fall over so I clued him in. I thought he would punch my teeth in until I told him our plan.

    On Sunday morning both Billy Bob and Rob Boy opened their car doors to madder than hell skunks, each fitted with a sign around their neck…”I am a snipe.” We left a heartfelt message at each car, …………

    “Thanks for the hunt guys, Be sure these snipe are cooked properly before you serve them. Let stand for thirty minutes to allow the smell settle slightly. Each sign was signed,

    “Two Yankees From Evil”
    .

    1. Peri Winkle

      Hi Kerry. It’s me, JM. I was locked out of this site for a really long time, and finally decided to change my name on a whim, and lol and behold — it worked!

      Best comeback to the the old snipe prank ever! I’m wondering how you got the skunks though… ;). I’m sure that’s an interesting story too!

    2. ReathaThomasOakley

      Kerry, what adventures you’ve had! Grew up in a family of hunters, but didn’t know about snipe hunts until Spin and Marty on Mickey Mouse Club. Heard lots of stories since.

      1. Kerry Charlton

        Thanks Reatha, The Snipe Hunt goes way back in Texas, probably a hundred years or so. There really are snipe, [various families of wading birds.] Try catching wading birds!

    3. Beebles

      We are big on snipe over here. Roast, baked, or stewed with dumplings and a slice of baby seal on the side. Just joshing, though there is a park down the road called Snipedales and they are all over the mudflats. Great story Kerry. Roll on the skunks.

  6. cosi van tutte

    This prompt seemed to call for it… 😀

    ****

    Robert Downey Jr. slouched back in his seat as he considered the question. “Best prank?” He smiled roguishly. “Well. Let’s see. It’s ten o’clock in the morning right now. You willing to be here all day?”

    The reporter laughed – a polite reporter’s laugh.

    “Ahh, but seriously. I’d have to say one of my best pranks would be convincing Ben Stiller on the Tropic Thunder set that I was not Robert Downey Jr. That I was a real, honest to Jose, sassy black man standing in for Robert Downey Jr. Yeah. That was a good one. I was particularly proud of that one. Ben fell for it like the secret blonde he is.”

    He snapped his fingers and his personal assistant Edwin appeared. He looked at Edwin. “What are you doing over here without my biscotti?”

    “I’m so sorry, Mr. Downey Jr. sir.”

    “Yeah. Yeah. Apologize later. Biscotti now.”

    “But we’re all out.”

    Robert smiled at the reporter. “Good toadies are so hard to find nowadays. ” He glared at Edwin. “I want my biscotti. Get your ugly little squid self over to Callista’s Fated R Donuts and get me a dozen of those biscottis I like. You know the ones – almond with no cranberries.”

    Edwin cleared his throat. “I’d just love to obey you, Mr. Downey Jr. sir—”

    “Ha! The day when you ‘love’ to obey me will be the same day when pigs create artificial gravity for NASA.”

    “Yes, but Callista’s closed last week.”

    Robert stared at him. “Try again, squid. That didn’t make a lick of sense.”

    “I said, Callista’s Fated R Donuts closed last week.” He hastened to add. “Closed forever.”

    “Forever. Uh-huh. See? I’d like to think the best of my hired help. I really do. I’m a great and wonderful guy that way.”

    “More like no way.” muttered Edwin.

    “But I’m thinking you’re just trying to squidge yourself out of doing your job.”

    “I am not. I’m serious. This is real! This is true! Callista’s is a dead business.”

    “Uh-huh.” He smiled at the reporter. “Hey, you look like the kind of woman who appreciates a well-made pastry/assortment of baked goods. Am I right?”

    “Well. I do indulge occasionally.”

    “Of course, you do. Do you know Callista’s?”

    “Callista’s Fated R Donuts? I should say so. They sell the best coconut macaroons there. I’m obsessed with them.”

    “Do you know if they’re still open?”

    “I should say so! I went there this morning.”

    “Ahh, get anything good?”

    “They didn’t have my macaroons, which disappointed me. I got these biscottis, but they really aren’t the best.”

    His eyes sparkled. “Biscottis, you say? What kind?”

    “Almond. But they don’t have any cranberries in them.”

    “Hmm, now that’s interesting.” He glanced at Edwin. “Wouldn’t you say that’s interesting?”

    Edwin sulked. “It was a perfect plan. Why do you always have to ruin my perfect plans? Every time! Ruin! Ruin! Ruin! Gaahhh!”

    Robert smirked. “Yeah, I’m just awesome. One of these days you’ll get used to my awesomeness. Meantime,” He snapped his fingers in Edwin’s face. “Fetch my biscottis, squid.”

    Edwin marched away, yelling at the ceiling, “IT’S SO UNFAIR!”

    Robert smiled at the reporter. “Say, do you still have those biscottis?”

    1. Peri Winkle

      Hey Cosi. First of all, I’m JM in disguise. Some wordpress weirdness wouldn’t allow me to post for months until I changed my name. Go figure.

      You know it warms my heart to come back to this. ❤️ This takes me all the way back to the very first RDJ and Edwin stories, complete with non-cranberry biscotti and Callistas Fated R Donuts. We had way too much fun with that. You know you shouldn’t encourage me… 🙂

      1. cosi van tutte

        Hi, JM!

        It’s great to see you post stories over here again. You’ve been missed.

        And yes. Writing RDJ and Edwin’s escapades are way too much fun. I’ve fallen out of the habit of writing them because the prompts weren’t quite right for their brand of silliness. Then, this prompt showed up and I was like “Oh, I’ve got to do it.” 😀

        I’m hoping that all is well with you and yours. 🙂

        1. Kerry Charlton

          I thought this marvelous, too marvelous for words, Cosi. I have no idea what women see in this turtle of a man. In my best day I could have taken any woman fron him with one look. So there, I said it.

  7. Hiba Gardezi

    I jumped into the car and slammed the door behind me as Jill threw in a bucket full of the treasures we had made last night.
    She smiled so hard I thought she would never frown again in her life.
    I couldn’t blame her.
    I felt excited, too. It was a jumpy, funny, cool sort of feeling.
    We were going to break rules.
    And that was very very bad.
    The leaders of our society had banned making balloons, playing any sort of game, driving at a speed above 20 km per hour and pranking.
    Last night after a boring last meal of the boring day in our boring lives, Jill and I had decided that we weren’t slaves.
    ‘Margaret,’ she had whispered from across the room in her bunk.
    So tentative, so quiet, her question seemed to mingle with the silence and only stick out into sound at the last syllable.
    I said yes.
    I said we must.
    And we would and then we tiptoed out. Yes, the cameras caught our smiles and sneaky looks but we wouldn’t be viewed till two days later.
    Then we would be punished.
    But it was worth it.
    Now I sped down the road, the hood down the wind in my hair and I felt I had never been happier.
    She handed me a water balloon and grabbed her own.
    I saw two policemen running after us.
    Policemen always stank. So we gave them a shower.

    1. Peri Winkle

      This was more than just a lighthearted prank. You gave this a dystopian undercurrent that made me fear for these girls. Although they only had water balloons, this was a definite act of rebellion, and I got the feeling this might be a life-altering prank. Sounds like a good start for a YA novel.

  8. RWriting

    This was about 10 years ago.
    _________________________________________

    She had spent the day waiting for this moment. She needed the boy’s barracks clear to set up her trap and the only time that would happen was during dinner. This was also her only time to eat, and food was very important to Karris. They were serving steak tonight and she felt a brief glimpse of disappointment before she wolfed down half of her meal, and got up.

    The girls around Karris grinned at her, she winked and made her way to the door. Making sure no one was watching, she slid open the glass door, and slipped outside. She turned right towards the boys’ rooms and had to duck behind a pillar as two boys made their way to the dining hall, running late for some reason or another.

    Karris made it to the barracks and slid inside. She gave the large room a quick scout and made her way to the bathrooms. Before dinner she had hidden a roll of cling-wrap down her pants – she was wearing baggy tracksuit pants to hide the bulge. She pulled out the roll and stepped up to one of the toilets. Karris groaned at the smell, how were boys so disgusting?

    She lifted the toilet seat and tore off a piece of the see-through plastic. She carefully laid is across the porcelain, smoothing is out so that no one could see there was something there. She closed the lid and moved to the next stall. She was so engrossed in her work that she didn’t notice someone sneak up on her.

    “What are you doing?” Henry smirked.

    “Uh… continuing the war between the girls and guys that happens every year on camp?” Karris wasn’t sure why it came out as a question.

    “Want some help?”

    “Yes! But why would you help us?”

    “It’s fun, and the other guys aren’t the best. I hope someone awful falls for this.”

    He didn’t need to say more. She handed him the roll and together they finished the four toilets. Karris hurried out of the barracks as dinner ended. The boys were making their way back to their rooms to shower and get ready to sleep. She grabbed Henry’s hand and he turned to go back inside, “thank you!” He grunted and went back inside.

    Karris joined the girls back in their own rooms. When she entered, every eye turned her way in question. She nodded and the girls burst into cheers. They only had to wait ten minutes before they heard raucous laughter coming from the boy’s side of camp. The girls rushed out into the night, and in the cold Sam stood soaked having just relieved himself, his water hitting the clear cling-wrap and bouncing right back at him.

    Karris and Henry found each other in the crowd. They were not laughing. Sam was the nicest guy in the grade, and they had just humiliated him.

    1. igonzales81

      Someone once pulled that prank at a men’s room I used. Thankfully, I spotted it, but only just in the nick of time. Then I found out who did it, and, well, let’s just say he won’t be doing that again. Anyway, great story.

  9. ReathaThomasOakley

    Best Prank(s)
    Absolutely True

    “Hollis,” I whisper-yelled as I threw the toilet paper roll out the second floor, chapel window, “here it comes!”

    As a student at a church related college, local boys referred to it as Virgin Hill, in the 60s, pranks were rather innocent and not very creative, like TPing the giant cedar tree growing next to my dorm. Having a boy friend who was willing to toss the toilet paper back, and who also worked campus security, meant in just a few minutes the tree was beautifully covered. I did worry that by locking the chapel door I’d kept some more spiritual sister from her devotions.

    As time went on, and winter set in, my roommate Janet and I kept trying to think of some other event that would impact lots of people, and perhaps make us the stuff of legends. After considering, and discarding, lots of ideas we finally had a plan.

    Our dorm mother, the one who locked the doors at 10:10 every night and to whom we had to go if we wanted to stay out later, was fond of using notepaper with the words, From the desk of Winona Irving, to send typed messages ranging from, Your room is too messy, to, You missed dorm prayer meeting, to, You are spending too much time on the phone, all signed with a huge, florid I. But, the notes that we all feared were simpler, See me at once, with that big I.

    Janet and I started practicing imitating the I, and started taking a few sheets of notepaper whenever we saw the pad out of the locked drawer of the desk she used in the dorm lobby. On Wednesday nights, when others were at Prayer Meeting, Janet would type and I would sign.

    The folded and stapled notes were addressed to boys we were certain had something to hide. The message? I know what you did, before I go to the Dean, please come to my office Friday, at 3PM, signed with that big I. The day was carefully planned because by 2 we would be on our way for the weekend at Janet’s home in West Virginia.

    Early Friday morning we slipped the notes through the slot in the campus mail room, and throughout the day, until we left, watched as boy after boy opened his mailbox. Reactions ranged from laughter to puzzlement to the note being hastily shoved in a pocket. By the time our ride picked us up for the airport, campus was buzzing.

    We smiled all weekend, and when we got back folks could talk of little else, plus there were long typed notices in our dorm, in the mail room, and all over campus. An investigation had begun, and all typewriters were being checked to find out who had pulled the prank. Fortunately Janet and I read lots of mysteries, so, using a nail file, we slightly damaged several keys, but our typewriter was never taken.

    Our secret was kept until one summer Bill, who had received a note, visited me, and at dinner my dear mother said something about the funny prank Janet and I pulled.

    “I knew it!” Bill hit the table and almost choked. “Some of us just knew it was you two, but since you weren’t there…”

    That was a long time ago, so I doubt any of the guys would even remember, but Janet and I did, and I still do.

    A follow-up regarding Hollis. One night we heard a rock hitting our window, looked out, and saw him, still working security. I slipped downstairs, and opened the front door where Hollis stood with a laundry basket. Remember it was the 60s, at Virgin Hill where most girls were just looking for their MRS degree, and it was a sign of a relationship going to a deeper level when a girl started doing her boyfriend’s laundry.

    “No,” I said.

    “Please,” he begged.

    “Never,” I said.

    “Just keep the basket for tonight,” he whined. “I’ll get it tomorrow.”

    I laughed.

    “They said you wouldn’t,” he muttered as he trudged back across campus with his dirty clothes. I wonder if Hollis remembers.

    1. Kerry Charlton

      You put me right back in time and then I thought about the massive ‘panty raid’ in the fifties at the girl dorms with fire trucks, hoses connected, police doing nothing but watching girls screaming, waving and throwing their under garmets over the railing to the guys standing below. Not a fire hose was turned on. The police let us hoot until eleven and then everyone went home when trhe girls ran out of frilly things. Gad, I loved the fifties. KC.

    2. Peri Winkle

      That truly was a legendary prank! Too bad you didn’t get to witness the mayhem, but I’m sure you heard plenty about it.

      You evoked a time and a place very well here. Although I went to a religiously-affiliated college in the 80s, my school had a sister school that was very much like this, with strict dorm mothers and some girls just there for their MRS degree, so this all struck a chord with me. (I was the girl attending the only recently all-boys “brother ” school.)

      I was cheering in my head for you when you declined to do Hollis’ laundry!

  10. jhowe

    Decades ago, I lived a few doors down from one of the social studies teachers at our high school. He was a spirted soul and very popular with the students. When he wasn’t at school, he was always in the driveway working on his jeep. He was one of those guys that checked gas mileage every time he filled up and he talked about it in class all the time.

    I had an idea and recruited my neighbor across the street to help pull it off. We started on a Saturday night and snuck out of the house to meet up. We carried a gas container and a length of plastic tubing and siphoned about a gallon of gas from the jeep. We did this every night for a couple of weeks. Sometimes, my neighbor and I would go together, sometimes we went alone but we never missed a night.

    I would see the teacher in his driveway working on the jeep, tuning it up and he grumbled in class about the piss poor mileage he’d been getting. Then, one night, we started putting it back in, a gallon each night. Before long, he started bragging about how he had the jeep so finely tuned, that his mileage was improving considerably.

    After two weeks of miraculous energy efficiency, he was jubilant. So we started taking it back out and he started his grumbling again. My neighbor and I eventually tired of the prank and stopped. Years later, I ran into the teacher at a grocery store. He remembered me and I asked him if he still had that Jeep, which he didn’t. I almost told him, but couldn’t quite work up the nerve. It was probably a good decision.

  11. Cheyenne

    I loathed the school I was forced to attend my senior year. It wasn’t pleasant to look at, no matter how you positioned your head or eyes. The walls were all painted white, decorated with obscene words plastered all over. More than that, though, I hated the people. My teachers all anticipated that I would fail, just like the vast majority of the student body, or pass just barely cutting it. The students judged me on the fact that I had just transferred, I didn’t talk like them, and I sure as hell didn’t dress like them. I hated it; I just didn’t fit in.

    So when Senior Prank Day rolled around, you couldn’t even visualize the amount of exhilaration that ran its course through my body. I spent hours, upon hours, looking for pranks on Google, hoping to find the perfect one to torment every single being in that school. And I did.

    We were able to leave school for lunch, and fortunately, right next to Taco Bell was a pet store. I bought over 400 eerie, jittery crickets. I walked back to the school with a smirk across my face. For once, I was content. To be honest, I hate bugs myself, but we all know what they say, “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” So in this regard, I literally kept my enemies inside my backpack during each session. The only time they came out was when they were released. Between classes, I would stop at a bathroom. I’d pull one of their home things out, I don’t even know what they’re called, and let the crickets jump around. Once I saw that they were dispersed all over the bathroom, I left to another, or if I was short on time I’d just head to my next class.

    By the time school let out, all 400 of those fuckers had found their place in the school. With all the girls’ bathroom doors always left open and the boys’ bathroom doors continuously opening and closing, the crickets surely had an easy time moving from one place to another.

    Once the next day came along, I was up bright and early, ready to attend and see if my crickets were still there. I almost felt a slight connection to these bugs, like they were the closest friends I had all year.

    They were still there, but only for a short time. The principal made an announcement; I don’t recall how it went precisely, something about how whoever did this was an immature child who didn’t have a right to graduate. He added in that he’d be calling an exterminator to take care of these wild, unwelcomed creatures.

    My senior prank was the best prank of all. This is a true story and to this day, they still don’t know it was me. And yes, I graduated.

  12. Athena4896

    The best prank I ever did was when I made my eye look like it exploded. At dinner, I held a dairy creamer in my hand, and it was slightly open. Throughout the meal, I rubbed my eye and said, “Ugh, my eye itches!” I made sure that my hand was covering the dairy creamer, and I brought it up to my eye. Then, I squeezed it, and white “juice” looked like it was pouring out of my eye!

    “My eye! My eye!” I shouted in pretend pain. I kept my eye closed so nobody could see that it was still there.

    Now I just enjoyed the horrified screaming.

  13. demigirl12345

    The best prank I ever heard about was when a class put their cell phones in the ceiling of the classroom. The teacher in that classroom was a cell phone dictator and she hated them. They kept the phones on and then made one kid stay home “sick”. Then the kid who was home sick, called all the phones during class. The teacher freaked out.

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