Tape and Muscle Guy's Facial
One summer I worked at a warehouse with my much older brother who has always been blessed, not with a sense of humor, but a sense of devious. Big brother had a rule that was dangerous to violate: never crack a smile or let on that you did it. Most people knew, but his soberness made it off-putting. I was always a willing apprentice.

1)taking the clear packing tape, turning it inside out and placing it sticky side out around a door knob. It was impossible to detect to the many in the office and created much hilarity when someone would approach the door, grab the handle and the almost fall over backward with a back strain and a sticky mass in their hand. I even saw it happen to the blow hard Texan that owned us for 8 hours a day. The sheer willpower required to not burst out laughing made me a better man.

2)We also used to make a lot of deliveries, travelling around in an old crap Chevy van held together by the above-mentioned tape. To alleviate boredom, we would take the paper from our drinking straws, chew it up and spit it at random people walking down the street.

However, ingesting straw paper can make one very queasy (and give you AIDS – really!), so we tried many other objects and finally settled on Trident red gum. It held a good aerodynamic shape and didn’t stick to the straw like the manky green Trident gum did.

I became so proficient in my weapon that I could hide the straw down my forearm fire and return it to the ready position in milliseconds. People would slap at the gum bullet thinking it was an insect or try to fish it from their hair, always reacting in surprise once they dug the bullet out and smelled it.

We only had one close call when my brother had been fermenting a large amount of straw paper, but no victim could be found. We finally saw this huge muscle guy standing by a stop light. My brother waited until the light turned green then **schhplattt** muscle guy was covered with straw paper glue and an unusual amount of salivary gland emission. I floored it, then stomped the breaks – traffic jam!

Muscle guy saw our predicament, uttered some naughty words and started running at the van. My brother, usually so stoic, started freaking out. Just as muscle guy grabbed the door handle, traffic cleared, I floored it and he tumbled into the street after hanging on for a second or two, skinned knees and a very prominent straw paper tilaka on his face. Sorry muscle guy.
( BrokenCoccyx doesn't mind if you grope on, Fri 15 Jan 2010, 17:43, 2 replies)

gives you AIDS?
Chinny on.
(tjn whizzing on the electric fence of life, Sat 16 Jan 2010, 0:12, closed)

Yeah.
King beard.
( The Awful Puppy Bakery is still bored, Sat 16 Jan 2010, 13:23, closed)