Epic Hay Castle.
I grew up in the countryside where there were plenty of barns to muck about in. One summer we decided to make the most epicest hay castle we could get away with without being discovered by the farmer.

This required great stealth, sneaking across rooftops to get to the actual barn unnoticed. The barn was basically a corrugated roof propped up on 4 corners with no walls, so care had to be taken not to get noticed as it was directly opposite the main courtyard and farmhouse.

There were about 5 or 6 of us in there and after creating a good curtain wall all around proceeded to hollow out our den over a period of a few weeks. It had deadfalls, at least 1/2 a dozen rooms and even a panic room accessible by a hidden tunnel which we could 'lock' ourselves in in the event of an emergency.

After our epic creation was complete we felt the need to boast about it so invited some less close-knit friends to come and behold its awesomeness.

That's where it all went wrong. They were less than stealthy and within about 10 minutes were rumbled by a farmhand. One by one my friends emerged to be lined up against a wall like they were facing a firing squad.

But I'd escaped to the panic room. I'd escape punishment. Win!

Until one of my so-called friends ratted me out and said,'There's still someone in there.'

Fucker.

I kept my cool and hid, thinking they would get bored of waiting. But then the farmhand pointed out the obvious by bellowing,"If you don't come out when Billy gets back I'll just get him to dismantle the whole thing until he finds you."

Pfft. Rather than risking the wrath of the farmer I gave myself up and we ended up getting a good bollocking about how much each hay bale cost and how much destruction we'd caused to them (a lot) before being told we were going to have to wait until Billy the farmer came back to see what he'd do to us.

I hatched a master plan. I broke down into hysterics and gibbered and pleaded like a bitch until she took sympathy on us and told us to fuck off sharpish.

As soon as we were free I turned off the waterworks and my friends were impressed at how I'd been able to fool her with my crocodile tears.

The truth was the tears were real as I was shitting myself as my dad knew the farmer and I didn't want a pasting.
( Airman Gabber Living life like a 70's BBC presenter, Fri 18 Nov 2011, 10:52, Reply)