A few years ago...
... my works Christmas party was a black tie do in a marquee on Battersea Park.

The following morning me, my mate Porky and our respective girlfriends/wives went off in search of breakfast (the Travel Inn we were staying in didn't do food).

We ended up outside an Asda at 9:50, waiting for them to open so that we could go and raid their cafe. This being the 23rd of December, there was a huge crowd waiting to go and get their Christmas shopping.

At about 5 past 10, we all came out again, having discovered that this particular store didn't have a cafe.

Muscling our way through the crowd, I looked over my shoulder to Porky and remarked in a fairly loud voice "I can't believe it's 5 past 10 on the last Sunday before Christmas and Asda have run out of turkeys already!"

The consternation that ran out through the crowd was palpable =)
(Professor Kenny Martin Hmm? What?, Sun 16 Dec 2007, 23:07, Reply)

When we were lads
Me and my mate lived up the road from a pub where people would always get shit faced and drive home. We thought we would have some fun with them so we got two high powered torches and waited in darkness by the side of the road until we could see a car start to leave.

We would then stand about a cars width apart and turn on the torches. We'd run down the road towards the car until it was about 50 yards away and then we'd cross over and run either side of the car. The looks on the drivers face's were priceless.
(Creamy Discharge Freeze Motherstickers, this is a fuck up, Sun 16 Dec 2007, 23:06, Reply)

Fishline..
..tied to the door knockers of two opposing houses with a few inches of slack.

Knock on door A, they answer, which tugs on the fishline and prepares to knock door B's knocker, just as door A person closes his/her door, door B's knocker goes, cue door B person answering and repeating the process, and so on and so forth.

The person that discovers the fishline after the most amount of times answered wins.

(Then run.)
( The Gentleman Bastard waxing lyrical. ©, Sun 16 Dec 2007, 22:25, Reply)

Spacks
The special needs groups that dominate the college cafeteria at lunch are a veritable fountain of mirth.

Of all the 'pranks' we've played on them, the ones that have yielded the finest results were:

Gluing a £1 coin to the floor of the Refectory where they frequent.
This has caused (time and time again) much hilarity as we (I) watch them scratch the floor with their webbed appendages, trying desparately to become slightly wealthier.
However, their methods have evolved in recent weeks.
Lately they've taken to using knives and forks to free it and on Friday, wheelielad (aptly named due to him being in a wheelchair) lowered one of his footplates to the floor and rolled into it repeatedly until one of the carers stopped him.
This cursed pound has also led several fights (SPACKFIGHTS) amongst the group over who gets it. The best was when Ashley (7ft, big puffer jacket, Cerebal Palsey) rugby tackled Peter (Creepy pervy mong) when he went to pick it up.


I also have a friend, who will bet them (very frequently) 10p that they can't lick their elbows. They're an eager bunch I'l give them that. While doing this was funny for a while, it soon lost it's touch.
That is until we hit upon the idea of making them do it in the middle of the lunchline on a busy day.


I'd imagine in a few years I'll feel a right bastard for doing this.

Click 'I like this' if you think I should film SPACKFIGHTS and make a profit out of it.
(Good Looking Deity Grew a magnificent beard on, Sun 16 Dec 2007, 21:08, 21 replies)

A little drama
My girlfriends mum was a highly strung nervous wreck, she used to dress her up as robocop for chrisakes if she wanted to go rollerskating.

One day, we thought we'd give her mum her 10th heart attack that year and carefully laid out a scene in the driveway of her house...my friend lay on the floor, i carefully lay my bike on top of her in a heap, her bike next to it. With some fake blood from Halloween left over, i pour on her hands and face and she lays perfectly still.

We both scream as loud as we can and I then knock on the door to surprise her mum.

I have never seen a woman move so fast out of the door only to get to her laughing daughter covered in red goo, to stop still and nearly burst into tears.

i feel awful, but manage to still find the whole thing funny, until I realise i would not be allowed out past 6pm for the rest of the summer.

Bitch.
(Eeevil You are losers, Sun 16 Dec 2007, 21:06, 1 reply)

I wee'd myself for many years apparently
So as it happened to me I shall tell it from someone else's perspective...

Janskys was a brilliant chap: great to be around and a cool friend. We had finished Sixth Form and were at the Sandy Balls holiday camp in the New Forest for a weekend of beer and stuff.

While Janskys is great, he did used to get plastered and pass out. Lots. Never one to remember that he had his eyebrow removed when he was unconscious after a different party, he promptly passed out after a game of drunken cards.

He woke up with very soggy jeans and The Fear that he had wet himself... we all pretended to know nothing and he went quietly mental.

Four years passed and one of our group let it slip to Janskys that we had tried the old warm bowl of water - put a passed-out drunkard's hand in the water and it should make them wee themselves - but it had not worked: we simply tipped the water over his groin.

Four years of thinking the worst can do a lot to some people, but apparently Janskys got used to doing daft things while horribly drunk so he wasn't too miffed. We, on the other hand, were really sad and laughed lots about it. Probably.

We should all learn to grow up more and sort out our awfully dull lives - I'm sure Janskys is still a great guy and doing much much better than we could all imagine. And I bet he's not at all bitter.

[this is as long as it gets]
(thinkthinkthink ... on ..., Sun 16 Dec 2007, 20:37, Reply)

Growing up, half of my friends were the children of immigrants
One day when I was about 13, a very close friend told me that her family were going to move back to Korea. They'd put their flat on the market and were trying to sell their business.

Naturally, being a 13-year-old girl, I was distraught. One of my best friends was leaving forever! Nothing could be worse! I was absolutely miserable at the thought of never seeing her again. I arranged a big party, took all these pictures and started making a scrapbook, and of course did my fair share of crying.

To cut a long story short:
She was lying.

We didn't stay friends for long after that.
( KersaI Missive Free Michael Shields! with Monday's Liverpool Echo, Sun 16 Dec 2007, 19:58, Reply)

I went to a military run boarding college
Perhaps I need say no more, but I will.
First was lifeing. Juniors were in 3 man room, seniors in singles. We would make over peoples rooms on a theme, e.g. cover everything in bog roll or no smoking stickers (that was done to me, I laughed till it hurt), bin bags, tin foil etc.
The worst was snow life, when I was a junior. One prefect was known for bad temper. Another emailed us telling us to collect up all the holes from paper punches, polystyrene balls and anything else small and white. A group of lads (not me though, thankfully) covered everything in "snow". His bed, his immaculatley ironed shirts, inside the clock, a tin of boot polish. Needless to say he went apeshit, and hated us for the rest of term. The arse who told us to do it pretended to know nowt, and helped punish us. Nob.

Another tale involves myself, another lad and a bucket of jelly.
As one lad was being a bit of an arse, we decided to surprise him. We waited until he was in the bath, opened the door and chucked a bowl of cold water over him, and nicked his clothes. For some reason I was singled out for revenge (possibly due to throwing the water), and woke up to a cup of said liquid in my ear one Sunday morning. I then found my bucket of jelly had been filled with shampoo, rendering it inedible. I couldn't be arsed to sort it, so it lived in a cupboard until end of term. When opened, I nearly died.
( Greenbat, Sun 16 Dec 2007, 19:54, Reply)

My brother and I once fueded for several weeks
it was started by me and my sister tying him to a chair with lots of ropes from the garage and leaving him in the garden from about 11:00 till 15:00.

His revenge was exquisite, he hid thousands of bits of lego in all my bedclothes, mattress, pillows, floor etc in such a way that no matter how hard I tried I couldn't clear them all out.

little bastard
( WormuIus, Sun 16 Dec 2007, 19:31, 2 replies)

Have a repost
My Grandad,rest his soul was a merry prankster.My Nan and a group of workmates,liked to go to her house in their dinner hour and do the old Ouija board.My Grandad was thoroughly fed up of this,so one day,exacted revenge.He took him a balloon,which he inflated thoroughly.He lurked against the curtained window until they were mid seance,whereupon he popped it through the open window light and let go.The result was a farting "ghost" spazzing around the room,which caused general hysterical behaviour and one of the women actually pissing herself in fright.What a man he was.
(archroy Get down wi' yer bad self., Sun 16 Dec 2007, 18:53, 2 replies)

Several Small ones (ooh err)
not as involved as some of the posts (or as funny!), but from
my days working in Consumer support for a then large ITcompanya few spring to mind which might give some techs out there ideas:

The old swapping the M and Nkeys - Connecting another mouse or keyboard and making random movements or comments - Setting up an outlook rule when a collegue had foolishly left his terminal unlocked to launch our database again everytime a new email was received. -Taking a 'Print Screen' of the desktop hiding all the icons and then setting the new bmp as the wallpaper.

convincing one of our admin girls that left handed biros were available - (the ball point rotates the other way to make it easier for left handed people apparently)

Another favorite standby - Can you call back Mr C Lion? -
The last girl that did this said 'how rude they've put the phone down on me im going to call them back and give them a piece of my mind'

Covering an entire car in warehouse shrink wrap and on a seperate occasion filling one with those polystrene packing chips.

Convincing a none too bright tech that the game 'Black and White' which had just been released and that he had a copied verion of had sophisticated anti piracy software (which nicely tied into a then current news story about the game having some spyware in it for that purpose) and that the police would be raiding his area shortly - caused him to bury his hard drive in his back garden and but a retail version of the game. Cant remember if we ever told him the truth!

That was also the same guy that we setup a rule in his outlook that forwarded all his private emails from his girlfriends hotmail account to a public folder - cue much piss taking.

And finally - Setting up various autotexts in outlook when one of the girls left her machine unlocked subsituting 'monday' for 'tuesday' and "Love and Kisses" instead of 'regards' and various other things of that ilk - took about a month before she noticed! Idenied all knowledge.

To really spread mistrust throughout an organisation though just create your own organisation chart, remove all the existing heads of department, merge departments promote the most unlikely people to senior positions mark it something like "Quarter 4 reorganisation plan" and stick half way down the paper tray of a photocopier or printer - When its eventually spotted on the back of a printout and the rumors start, they'll be denied - Well they would say that wouldn't they if they're going to lay people off etc etc - Literally months of fun :-)

mutters something about length
(Titanix, Sun 16 Dec 2007, 18:36, Reply)

Me and my old school buddy
met up in the city I worked high up in and invited him, his girlfriend and his pet for dinner, but the joke was on him - me and his arch nemesis orchestrated a plan so that the latter was behind the door in the dining room, who then stole his only means of defence.

I thought it was funny but the joke was actually on me - said nemesis tortures him, freezes him and then gives him to some bloke in a (genuinely awesome) costume, who flies away.

I felt a bit guilty so I let his friends escape, joined their club and finally freed my mate from a desert palace that some really fat bloke owned.

After that, it all seemed to work out perfectly. He even let me borrow his vehicle and me and some ugly bloke called Nunb had a great laugh.

Regards,
Lando Calrissian
( TGP on the rock 'n' roll, Sun 16 Dec 2007, 16:57, 2 replies)

Another print shop tale...
Darren was lazy fuck at work, he used to sleep on one of the work benches is plain sight. One day we decided to punish him by wrapping him to the table with shrink wrap (we were all geniuses you see). Darren wakes up and panics as the shrink wrap constricts on him causing him to have a massive asthma attack right there and then. If you have you any idea how tough it is to break through layered shrinkwrap you will know that we almost lost him and if it wasnt for an old boy called Bob (see my previous story) coming to the rescue with a scalpel we would have gone down for murder. Darren is alive and well but slightly less lazy i hear.
( op op op op op I stink therfore I spam, Sun 16 Dec 2007, 16:55, Reply)

We did a bad thing.
I worked in the print trade for a few years, one of the casual workers Bob was a really nice old boy in his mid 60s due to retire. He had this really old pair of glasses whuch he was very protective over, he reckoned he had been to opticians many times and this was the only pair that worked for him, he used to maintain them and clean them (old school I suppose) anyway... one day I brought in an old pair I found at home, we switched them with his sacred pair when he was eating his lunch (he took them off to eat), which he left on his makeshift table which was a pallette of paper. We dropped another big heavy pallete of paper onto them with a big crunch. He heard it happen and came running over. We thought he would get angry and we would all have a laugh but instead he clawed at the paper pallete and started crying. We all stood there in shocked emabarrasment as we revealed the truth to him. He said nothing and never came back again. Terrible huh? We felt like a bunch of proper nasty cunts.
( op op op op op I stink therfore I spam, Sun 16 Dec 2007, 16:46, Reply)

Poor computing teachers
Looks like they get a lot of flak. They deserve it though, they're all useless. One of ours was a P.E. teacher before the summer. Came back after the holidays, and he'd learnt all he needed to know to teach us computing apparently.

He wasn't much shittier than the "real" computing teachers though.

Yeah, but pranks.

We, being geeky shits, were considerably better on the BBC Bs than he.

We once wrote some nice code that emulated the os prompt on the BBCs. AND, no matter what you typed, no matter what keys you actually pressed, it typed, character by character, our predefined message. There was also a peek or a poke or whatever to make it stay in ram and re-initialise if the reset keys were pressed, and it disabled the break key...

So we shout the teacher over. "sir, my keyboard's not working."

He comes over and starts "typing" randomly to see if the keyboard responds...

"I am homosexual" comes up on the screen.

he hits break, hits some more keys.

"gay gay gay gay gay"

he resets the machine.

"i love hairy naked men"

Childish as fuck, but my god we pissed ourselves. We were only 14 or so.

To be honest though, I think I'd still laugh about it today.
(weegiegeek, Sun 16 Dec 2007, 15:38, 2 replies)

My wife has a friend who is now a doctor
While studying in Copenhagen they went on a trip to Prague in order to practise surgery and actual dead bodies. This is all part of their education and it makes good sense. Going to Prague is also very common since for some reason there are plenty of bodies to practise on. By contrast, in Denmark, not a lot of people donate their earthly remains to science.

And with good reason.

By virtue or necessity, medical students develop an unsentimental relationship to the human body. In some cases, and with some people, their humour borders on morbidity. Sometimes, when in Prague, these people hit the pubs at night. Some people order Guinness. And in at least one case that I have heard of, a poor sod finishes his pitch black glass of Guinness and discovers a human penis. Eww..
(spinoza, Sun 16 Dec 2007, 15:20, Reply)

My father
is, for most of the year one of the quietest and most placid people you've ever met but for one day each year on the 1st of april he opens up and completely messes up at least one member of my family. Pranks have ranged from convincing everyone in my family they had jury duty over their holiday that year, sending me an itemised bill for £90 worth of porn sites I was supposed to have visited on a swanky internet terminal i had in my hospital bed after having my apendix out to convincing my nan Time Team were going to come and dig up her garden.
By far the best prank for longevity though has to be the time, 15 years ago, he meticulously cut open a cream egg with a hot knife, replaced the innards with mayonnayse, sealed it up, carefully rewrapped it and put it back in the frigde. My mum has not touched a cream egg since.
(MauveGnome is watching you whilst you sleep, Sun 16 Dec 2007, 15:11, 4 replies)

Bit of a pearoast, but . . .
Got a bloke drunk and bet him that he could not fit both of his testicles into a standard sized Marmite jar.

This is a relatively easy feat: one simply pops them in, one at a time.

Unfortunately there isn't room for both a brace of plums and a digit, negating the chances of removing said testicles.

Nothing makes Lord Manley happier than watching a grown man's face as he holds a claw hammer and contemplates smashing the glass jar which houses his gonads.

Click for tutorial (NSFWish)
( LordManley twitter.com/LordManley, Sun 16 Dec 2007, 14:37, 4 replies)

Student living brings out the prankster in all of us.
My best mate lived in a four person uni flat during his first year. He and two of the others were determined wreckheads; the fourth guy was a teetotal chocaholic, but very good natured and didn't mind the copious hedonism surrounding him.

All the other flats in the block were five person flats- this one, however, was handicap-friendly. This meant that one of the rooms was supersized and the bathroom had a 'walk-in' shower. It was basically just a sloping floor and a shower curtain separating the shower from the bathroom.

One of the chaps, who we shall refer to as Martin, was a heavy sleeper. They had noticed that after a heavy night, nothing would stir him from his slumber until he'd had his twelve hours.

After a good night out, the three of them returned home. Martin promptly fell asleep on the couch. My friend and the third flatmate decided to see how heavy a sleeper he actually was...

Martin slept through the following:

* Being stapled to the couch
* Being transported on said couch down a 15m narrow hallway
* Being pushed, couch and all, into the walk-in shower
* Having his foot tied to the shower control
* Having salt put around his eyes

When he woke up at 6am, he was in a pitch black room. He tried to get up, but found he was both stapled to the couch and tied to the wall. The salt hit his eyes as he fell off the couch.

On hitting the tiles, he realised where he was. He made his way to the door and found they'd locked it from the outside- scared, drunk and confused, he had punched a hole through the door before realising he could unlock it from the inside.

And so they were all awoken by the now immortal words;

"WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!"
(Generator cannot be named for legal reasons, Sun 16 Dec 2007, 13:34, 3 replies)

So I'm in a Newquay caravan
with some mates just after first year of 6th form.

Wake up one morning, terrible hangover and surrounded by chaos from, night before.
Somewhat bewildered I look around at the trashed caravan and realise there is a strange ringing in my ears. 5 minutes of intense hungover concentration later and I realise why:

The bastards have duck-taped headphones into my ears and put MC Hammer- Cant touch this, on repeat...

It was still playing too, have strange memories whenever I hear that song now
(the_spoon I am Jack's lack of talent, Sun 16 Dec 2007, 13:13, Reply)

Balls!
Not mine, though I wish I'd thought of them!
Happened a good while back, before those cnuts in Government started making us earn our piddling wage: "Working" in the emergency services, we used to sleep most nights, largely undisturbed by Joe Public & their trifling little problems. (My house is on fire, I'm trapped in a crashed car, my wife's not breathing - that kind of thing).
LOTS of opportunities for pranks! Best one to my mind was quite inventive: Bunman, for that was his moniker, took a 1 litre plastic tub & put about 2 inches of water in it, then froze it. Then every hour he added a few more inches of water with a snooker ball & froze that, until he had, at the end of his 12 hour day shift, a 1 litre block of ice with about 10 snooker balls suspended throughout the block.
This was placed in the roofspace above the suspended ceiling, whereupon it started to thaw.
So at about hourly intervals all night, there would be a loud THUD on the ceiling, keeping the night crew awake & confused.
Only the large wet patch (still visible some years later) was able to give the game away as to how he'd done it.
Less effort, but equally funny results; when Bunman was on nights & the other crew were out, we had a power cut. Bunman turned everything on; TV (full volume), HiFi (full volume), all lights etc. Then he gets sent on standby somewhere else. The other crew return to a deathly quiet, dark station with no power & proceed to bed down.
One of them went completely apeshit when the power came back on...
You really, really wouldn't want us coming out to you in your hour of need, especially if you've done something silly with a hoover (or a turkey baster, or any number of other household items...)
Plogies for length, but we get too much time on our hands when you're not calling us out!
(stygof, Sun 16 Dec 2007, 11:39, Reply)

I was lucky enough to retire in my mid-30's and soon found something to do with my spare time
consumer terrorism - it turns out nobody cares what you take into stores, only what you take out, so I started messing with products and sneaking them back onto the shelves.

It started with a simple korma for vindaloo swap in sainsers but quickly degenerated into collecting dead heel skin, enough to fill a parmesan shaker. Before I knew it I was swapping Dulux Magic Emulsion "Goes on pink, dries white" with actual pink paint, then assorted larvae for rice in those frozen 'stir fry' packets. There were fake cards that said "Hope you die soon" on the inside of otherwise normal Get Well Soon cards and "Hurry up and die, I've already spent my inheritance" inside 70/80th birthday cards etc.

There were so many daft things making their way out of my mind for 3 years.

Unwound toilet rolls stating "You are being watched" half way through then resealed, no amount of prank prep was too much, even sending local random people letters telling them they'd won a timeshare in portugal, keys collectable on arrival at the resort.

Ultimately I even got bored of this so got back in touch with some old pals and started doing the odd day's work to keep me busy and the pranks have stopped, for now.
(Chopper3, Sun 16 Dec 2007, 11:37, 2 replies)

Brekkers!
We sent a full cooked English Breakfast,by snailmail, to my mate at Newcastle University (Living in a hall of residence)...
...one item at a time...(bacon, then sausage, then fried bread etc)...
...over several weeks...
...the last item was a very greasy/smelly fried egg...
...and he had to sign for every piece of mail that he received.
Childish (tick)
Unpleasant (tick)
Funny as fack (tick)
Length: about 8 weeks
(stygof, Sun 16 Dec 2007, 11:12, 1 reply)

Quick "netsend"
....found the z number of me manager's comp out one day, so I sent him a "netsend" (for you guys not in the IT crowd it's an instant pop-up message sent through dos to a particular computer on a network). It read "Pornography has been located on your computer. A member of staff with be with you shortly."
I've never seen him look that guilty ever. He was terrified. Until he found out I sent it. And threw an office squeezy toy at my head.
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Sun 16 Dec 2007, 10:02, Reply)

office
Me and another guy used to torment the old guy that sat next to us in the office.

Changed the 'N' and 'M' keys around on his keyboard.
We found out that at least one of these was in his password, when he had to call IT to get his password reset.
He was raging.

Also rotated his monitor display 180 degrees, then watched and laughed at his puzzled expression.

Poor old Bob
(jones, Sun 16 Dec 2007, 5:40, 2 replies)

This was far too easy actually
I'm in my little brothers room (17) with him and mention the exorcist scene of the girl doing the spiderwalk down the stairs.

We youtube it, and watch. All of it, down the stairs and the mouth opening with the blood.

He sits there, me standing beside and he decides to watch again.

Now this is about 3pm in the afternoon, broad daylight, rewatching something has seen only 1 minute before.

So it plays again and just as the girl opens her mouth and shouts with the blood showing I grab his arm and scream in his face!

He fucking hit the roof in fear at this!

Legnth?

Took me less time to wank over it than type it up!
(puggs, Sun 16 Dec 2007, 4:25, Reply)

Heee heeee,
Pulled a good one this morning (Saturday).
I have a major fishing tournament tomorrow (Sunday), and everyone I know knows about it. I've even had 1 good luck card!
Got up this morning around 8am and there's a message on my cellphone from one of my friends. Who is a major alcoholic.
Message is along the lines of good luck in the tourney, call me later let me know how you're doing etc.

So I called him back. Told him I'd caught a nice 8lb trout and was the forerunner so far in the contest (chances of anyone getting anything bigger than a 6lb trout in that lake are negligible).

I roll up to the pub at 2pm, wearing my new jeans that make my ass look good, as well as having makeup on......should have given it away then.
Oh no, everyone heard about my big catch and my $500 prize.........

Most people twigged it when I walked in, but poor, poor Dan. It took 20 minutes of explaining to him that I'm actually fishing tomorrow.....
( Batshitmentalist is sane for once, Sun 16 Dec 2007, 3:35, Reply)

Blackcurrenty goodness
Bit of a sciencey one this, sorry.

In the lab I used to work in, we spent a lot of time purifying proteins. It's a fairly time consuming job and pretty dull, but if you want to get good data from your experiments, it's important that you know the quality and purity of the stuff you're using. One technique to do this is called gel electrophoresis. In simple terms, you pass the purified sample through a gel by running an electrical current across it. The sample separates out as small things run faster through the gel and will appear at the bottom, big things at the top.
One of the guys we worked with used to make a bright purple protein. He never ran gels to check the purity as he was pretty confident he was always getting the right stuff.

We discovered that if you mix blue ink and ribena, you get a solution that is exactly the same colour as the protein. And so we waited till he had an undergrad student in who he was teaching to run gels, then made the switch.

He took the gel out after an hour and, no protein. He ran it again, nothing. My boss, wise to what we'd done made intelligent sounding noises about contaminants and denaturation of the sample. Then said, with a serious tone in her voice... "you do realise that this puts the last two years of work you've done under scrutiny, after all, we have no evidence that any of your samples are the right ones. We might have to withdraw the papers you've written..."

The sight of him, at his desk, shaking like a broken man was too much for us to bear and we 'fessed up. He took it pretty well, I think he only called us cunts two or three times.

Eee, us science geeks know how to party. It's a laugh a minute, I tells ya. *sobs*

Length? about 5.5 nanometers...
(Rakky (forgot her password) The muffin maverick, Sun 16 Dec 2007, 3:01, Reply)

It's all about shit, when you get down to it......
I may have, in the mists of b3ta-time, once posted a story about my time in the army. It involved a (so he said) well endowed mate, underpant failure, a spade, a field latrine, khak-kleptomania, slapstick and ultimately lots of running around aimlessly because sergeants-major take a dim view of the use of HM entrenching tools being used to nick shit.... This is not that tale.

This tale is oh so different, but then again, not.

I was, a long time ago, one of the most inept cadets at a certain military academy. And it is upon my lot that this utterly appalling prank was played.
To go into the details of inter-squadron rivalry as existed at the time would take more typing than I am man for. (Let's put it this way, one of my English lecturers - who bore a staggering resemblance to Tim Brooke-Taylor - was a lexicographer. He managed to produce a 1000 page dictionary devoted wholly to our own internal jargon. Over 40 pages alone were devoted to derivatives of the word 'fuck', and this thing was written in font 12. It was an academic text, not one written in crayon for us mud-crawlers.)
Our buildings (blocks) consisted of two towers, each of three levels, joined on the first floor by a communal area, consisting of rec-room, kitchen, bathroom, IT geekery area, etc etc etc. Think H-blocks from the Maze, but vertically oriented. As our building was built on a hill, the downhill tower had a fourth level, a basement. Access to this was through a manhole cover. (Bear with me, it's seriously worth it - length joke at the end*). As going down there was expressly forbidden we turned it into our very own secret squirrel hideaway and did all sorts of naughty naughty things down there. Think ironing badly, not polishing your boots, push ups where your chest didn't get low enough - oh ok, think pissing idiotry of the highest order. Anyway, as hip clubs do, it went out of fashion.
Alpha squadron ('the relaxed professionals' was their ethic, the rest of us just thought they were lazy cunts) were, as a result of a block re-org, required to give up one of their buildings. The mighty Bravo moved their noble lads into the block. It was a great place to live. Nearest the mess, nearest the gym, nearest the lecture theatres, the seconds that saved on a daily basis were worth gold, and the alpha-twats knew it.
One great tradition, now sadly dead, was the 'bish'. In essence it meant destroying things others hold valuable. We raided one another constantly - think the Vietnam war, but with shaving cream, fire extinguishers and mud, rather than napalm and american ineptituder. The value that the departing squadron placed on the building meant that sabotage was the order of the day on handover. The hated incomers wouldn't get it without a fight. On move in day we searched the building for all booby traps.
Nothing.
A year later final exams were drawing to a close...
Summer was upon us. We had free time. The officers in charge posted to this career cul-de-sac were going back to the real world and couldn't have given a butter-greased prison-daddy style grudge fuck what the student monkeys did with themselves now. So we partied. And that led to Golf section getting its grand reopening.
So we prepared a decent load of contraband and prized open the manhole cover. Drunk already, the first of our number jumped in and we heard the most almighty commotion. Splashing, gasping - the sounds of someone in utter misery.
It turned out that the fuckers who had been required to vacate the premesis had been down and unhooked the u-bends from the toilets upstairs. So our mate found himself three feet deep in putrefying shit dating back over a year.

I defy hell to be worse.....


*legnth joke (sorry, my fingers are tired)
(InfiniteMonkey, Sun 16 Dec 2007, 2:38, Reply)