Fancy a pint?
Stubblychin reminded me of a prank. Sounds shit until you do it.

You need two pound coins (or if your cheap, 2 pennies!) and a friend with a pint.

Get a gullible friend and tell them that you can make 3 places out of the coins. When they ask, this is how it goes.

1. Stack one coin on top of the other. Pronounce 'Dublin' (Doubling haha)

2. Squeeze the coins in your hand.
Pronounce 'Oldam' (Hold em)

And then the party piece. As the victim is lulled into a false sense of trust, you drop the coins into their pint and shout

BATH!

The confused look and being called a twat is well worth it at the end.
( sausagesucker just paid £5.00 for a cup of Tea!, Tue 18 Dec 2007, 13:16, 3 replies)

..
I live for pranks. i have so so many stories to tell, i have lost 3 office jobs due to my pranks getting out of hand. e.g unscrewing every screw in the toilets so the cubicles fell down when someone opened the door to use a toilet. anyway, one of my favourites is the time me and a mate had a big loud aftermarket peco big bore backbox (exhaust) we were bored one night, and decided to fit it to the mk1 fiesta of an 80yr old lady down my road. we proceeded to bodge it on, and whilst we were at it, put a few max power type stickers on her car for her. i feel a bit bad now, but at the time watching a decrepid old lady pottering up the road and seeing a 4 inch exhaust under her bumper making a nice burbling noise, made me laugh for hours.
(boosh, Tue 18 Dec 2007, 13:14, 1 reply)

Headmaster
My mate reeves mum married our primary school headmaster Brian. He was discipline incarnate and also my mums boss. One halloween we were told that reeves was home alone baby sitting his brother with no Big Bri about. So we went over in the middle of the night to the deepest countryside and started rattling the window and scratching fingers until Reeves freaked out. I heard the front door go and ran around the front shouting "we got you! we fucking got you wanker!!!!" only to find the man who had reduced me as a boy to tears with a big fuck off stick in his hand. "er....we thought you were out...." Reeves was behind him with a pair of pliers looking shit scared. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING TERRORISING MY FAMILY IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT!!!" screamed big Bri. Reeves was smiling as I and my partners were assaulted with a headmaster special of a bollocking before I went home and got done over by my mum...
(Jumper, Tue 18 Dec 2007, 13:05, Reply)

Johnny Knoxville
said that one Christmas he wrapped up a cheap engagement ring and put it under the tree.

He tagged it with his brother's girlfriend's name and wrote something like "please say yes", with love from his brother.

She cried twice that morning.
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Tue 18 Dec 2007, 13:02, Reply)

In retrospect - not so much a prank as me being a malicious shit...
A young lady I dislike (I despise the snaggle-toothed twunt) confided in one of her closest friends that she had contracted herpes after a poorly judged one night stand. Her friend, being the doting, secret keeping lass she is, promptly told me as she knew I find it amusing. What she failed to predict was that despite promising not to mention it to a single living soul, I immediately told everyone. Fucking EVERYONE. I told people who didn't even know her on the off chance that either a) they'd one day meet her, or b) pass the story on to someone who did know her. I though this was the height of hilarity, in fact I still do (I'm weeping silent tears of mirth as I type). For some reason she really, REALLY hates me...
(brainmeat ... and that's why it burns when you pee., Tue 18 Dec 2007, 13:01, Reply)

Mr Inbetween...
Actually reminded me of this one, its kinda similar, probably more boring and if you dont like it, well, just skip past it.

Names are changed to protect me, cos I still know the cnut.

Gary was a local in the pub I worked at. And he's a cnut. A cnut of the highest order. Outwardly racist (for some reason only towards Blacks, never anyone else?), He would try and be your best mate if you could do something for him, you know the type, if you can get him discount in a bar he was your best mate, but the min your back is turned he'll bitch behind your back.

Gary and I got along at first (as you do with your regulars) until a particularly nasty break-up between him and his now ex gf (vicki)- incidently I got into a fight with him for pulling his on-off gf while he was in the pub)

Another couple regulars, Jack and er...john, were both a bit of a drunkard, good guys though. And there was a whole hose of other regulars I cant be arsed to make names up for.

Jack and john were pretty good mates, always knocking about together, providing somesort of entertainment. And this story takes place in the week leading upto April Fools Day.

Gary (being the twunt he was) spent about a day trying to think of"The Mother of All April Fool Jokes"

So what was his big plan? An Orsen Well's style 'The Aliens are Invading'? A photoshop mockup of Jeebus in a Liverpool shirt (cos they need a miracle)?.No

His big plan was to convince Jack, John had died.

John (apparently with his blessing + that of his family) would not answer his phone (both mobile and landline) and whenever anyone answered his landline phone they would often garble words through tears to "confirm" John had indeed shuffled off this mortal coil.

Now Vicki and Jack are in HMV when Jack gets a call. Its Gary. Jack answers in his usual 'Alwight mate, 'ow are ya?' as you do. Vicki is milling around the DVD section, probably looking at the latest releases waiting for Jack to get off the phone to continue their shopping.

Vicki see's the expression on Jack's face. Its red, mad, sad, and pretty distraught.Vicki goes over. Tears are beginning to flow down Jack's face. Soon enough the conversation ends with "thanks for letting me know mate". Jack takes Vicki to oneside and tells her what has happened. Pretty cut up the pair of them go to the pub to see other mates who by now have heard. Leading the mourning for this soul is Jack.

Jack can feel his phone vibrating amogst the improptue celebration of John's life and goes outside to answer it. Vicki is keeping an eye of jack to make sure he doesnt run off and do something stupid. Vicki sees Jack shouting into his phone. The volume of Jack's voice is LOUD. Enough for us to hear through two sets of double doors "YOUFUCKINGCUNTHOWCANYOUDOTHATYOUSICKBASTARDIHOPEYOUDIE" and other similar words.

Vicki goes outside and and Jack is crumpled on a bench. Pretty much in the feotal position . Wearing a white t-shirt and Jeans and looking for all the world like a man who has had his bones removed leaving only the ability to cry. Not daring to say a word, Vicki places a loving hand on Jacks' Shoulder.

Whimpering, Jack looks at Vicki. "he's alive...he's alive...He's Alive..." As this dawn on him and Vicki and they go back inside to tell everyone of this hilarious April Fools Joke. In Walks Gary...the biggest shit eating grin on his face. That didnt last long, as we didnt dare try and pull Jack away as he punched him.

As for why John didnt answer his (mobile) phone? I have no idea....

Length...the joke shouldnt have gone one that long. It shouldnt have gone on at all.
(drain_bamaged, Tue 18 Dec 2007, 13:00, Reply)

my girlfriend
Came round to my flat and asked if she could stay for a few days because builders were replacing water pipes in her building. That was 7 years ago and she's still here, Now we're married and have a joint account. There were no builders. No water pipes.
(frankspencer, Tue 18 Dec 2007, 12:53, 3 replies)

One I heard a while back...
Requirements:
Pub location,
Two Pints of miscellaneous Beverage
A victim.
Bunch of Mates in on the joke.

Whilst sitting at a table, tell the victim that you would like to show them a trick but it requires him/her to be involved. Tell him/her to place their hands palm down on the table as flat as possible.

Now place one full pint glass on the back of each of the victim's hands telling them that they will need to concentrate on keeping their hands as flat as possible otherwise they will spill the drinks.

Then you and your mates leave the pub...

Length? As long as you please, minutes? hours?
(stubbledchin, Tue 18 Dec 2007, 12:37, 6 replies)

Not me but good ones
I have a mate called Clive who is one of the funniest people in the world and one of the evilest. He's always been up to no good, like dropping an open bottle of cherryade from a railway bridge into an open top car but a couple of really witty pranks he has done are worth repeating.

First, we both used to work at the same nuclear power station (really). The kitchen on site was always popular at breakfast time, with a long queue of people waiting for their grub. However, because the buildings on the site were spread out, it was a real pain in the arse to walk all the way over every morning. Clive combined his love of toast with his dislike of the post room for his first prank. One day he knocked up a flier on his PC for 'Toast in the Post', a service where the post room would deliver your breakfast orders with the mail. He then got a list of labels for every department on site, put each on an internal envelope, enclosed a flier and mailed every single department. So, the post room effected it's own winding up. Apparently they were inundated with requests and not at all happy!
The second prank was he knew where a particularly unpopular teacher at our school lived and what his phone number was. For years after he left school, each time he drove past the teacher's house he'd make a note of what car was in the drive way and then put it in the free ads, with the teacher's phone number, at a ridiculouly low price for a quick sale. Genius!
(give it six weeks and it might clear up would like to butter your muffin, Tue 18 Dec 2007, 12:20, Reply)

stoners are a bit too easy......
I had an ickle bit of fun with my now wife and an ex-mate.

We were talking about ghosties and suchlike in my front room. When, a ghostie appears and communicates by flashing the lights.
amazing. what are the chances of that.
I managed to keep them talking to the other side for nearly 20 minutes whilst answering their questions with my shoulder blade on a push/twist dimmer switch.
They were in awe of the spirit, and totally 100% hook line and sinkered.

I just couldn't hold on to the jape any further and split my sides. I now feel hollowed, in that i could have them still believing today.
( bazza van der trance , ooh baby baby, baby baby. Get up on this., Tue 18 Dec 2007, 12:10, Reply)

She wasn't all that bright
My first job out of university involved working for the sort of company which recruits gullible recent graduates and works them until their eyes bleed as they're too young and inexperienced to realise that the world of work doesn't necessarily have to be like that. The average employee at this company stayed for a little over 3 months. As I was the unusual combination of a) very gullible and b) very good at the job, I was there for a year and a half.
After a while of working there, I discovered that a) my boss was a born-again Christian of the evil sort, and b) she had decided that I was a satanist and needed saving. She came to this entirely logical conclusion after I got the DJ to play some 'devil worship music' (Sisters of Mercy) at the work Christmas do.
It was shortly after this that I decided to leave and go to bum around Mexico, but I needed more money and had to stay for a few more months.
To wile away the hours, I got a 100-page notepad from the stationery cupboard and whenever I had a spare few minutes I spent the time writing "All work and no play makes davywavy a dull boy all work and no play makes davywavy a dull boy" over and over again. Eventually, I filled the entire notepad - 100 pages, both sides of every page, in small, neat handwriting.
On my last day at my exit interview I told my boss that all my client notes were written up in the notepad on my desk and if she had any questions she should give me a ring. Then I walked out.
I never heard from her, but I would have given good money to see the look on her face as she read through my 'notes'.
(davywavy, Tue 18 Dec 2007, 12:03, Reply)

Lizard Man
There is a house near me that has a huge lizard as a door knocker, understandably this pissed me off so a friend and I used to knock down ginger the bastard every time we walked past. One time he must have been right at the door because he came out and caught me! After berating me for a while and me basically telling him to fuck off I went away and plotted my revenge....

About 6 months later I returned at about 3am and shat on his doorstep. I then proceeded to wipe the shit all overthe lizard/letterbox/keyhole/door handle (It was a biggun!)

I would have loved to see his face the lizard knockered cunt.
(Jimmy Large Is huffing Jenkem on, Tue 18 Dec 2007, 12:02, 12 replies)

Definitly the worst...
Mother nature is the most evil prankster there is. At the age of 42 when all my bits are saggy and I'm no longer nubile and unsullied it's given me a raging libido that Jack Nicholson would be hard pressed to keep up with. Where was it 20 years ago when I was unlined and unfettered by control knickers and anti-aging products, when all I wanted to do in bed was sleep for 10 hours and only alcohol made me gagging for it.

Tis a cruel, cruel thing is mother nature.

Here I am climbing the walls having reached my sexual peak and I'm too old for the young guys and too old for the old guys. By the time I've saved up for plastic surgery I'll be in my fifties and even further down the pecking order of totty.

And all cold showers do is make my nipples stand to attention!

Blah!
( girlinthehole, Tue 18 Dec 2007, 11:55, 18 replies)

Encore
Just remembered another short trick said manager (Ross) in my other response played.

We were all on a night shift (Yet again) and on the front counter was a small cracked tile on the floor.

Ross calls over Mo (A friendly man from Pakistan) who was known for being a prankster himself.

'Hey Mo' says Ross. 'I dare you to lift that tile up'.

'What for?' replies Mo

'Well didn't you know? There's a dragon under there' replies Ross

'Fuck off!' says Mo.

'No seriously. Go on, lift it up'

Cue Mo going to lift the tile up when Ross stomped his feet loudly and screamed 'RRRAAARRRGGGHHH'

I swear Mo went white.

He got his own back later by setting up a bucket of water on the toilet door when Ross was in there. Ross got soaked and couldn't get out of the changing room (There was a changing room outside the toilet, which led into the crew room) because Mo shoved the bin, the telly stand, the table and the sofa in front of the door and sat on it while enjoying the rest of his break.

Ross didn't leave that changing room for at least half hour.
( sausagesucker just paid £5.00 for a cup of Tea!, Tue 18 Dec 2007, 11:34, Reply)

If you can't stand the heat...
My bro used to work as a waiter in Austria, and the system they have in some places there is odd, the waiting staff actually buy the food from the kitchen, then sell it on to the customers, a broker if you will.

This gives staff a vested interest in getting the orders out well presented and on time, but the flip side is that if people dick about and send stuff back, or cancel orders, it comes out of their pocket.

This is their way of saying thanks to all the fussy faffers out there.

Just after the food is plated up, prior to being brought out, one side of the plate is heated over a hob, the length of heating determining the severity of the retribution.

Quickly, the waiting staff would, holding the plate by the opposite edge, bring the plate to the tricky customer.

Immediately prior to handing the plate to the customer, the waiter says "Be careful, this plate is really really hot" (Auf hoch deutsch, naturlich). Because the waiter is holding the plate himself, the customer thinks it can't be that hot and that he will be able to hold the plate too. How rong they are.
(Countryslicker, Tue 18 Dec 2007, 11:31, 1 reply)

When I was a kid…about 6 years old…

I loved Star Wars…really LOVED it. Fanatical wasn’t the word. You all probably know someone who in the 70’s was a total kiddie-geek Star Wars mega-twat? Well, in my neck of the woods, that was me.

Anyhoo, I had a couple of action figures and vehicles etc, and virtually wore them out playing with them. Every penny I could scrounge from doing chores / odd jobs for people went on the toys.

Like I said...fanatical.

One day, my mum and dad broke the golden rule and said they were going to get me a load of Star Wars toys for Christmas…I could hardly contain my excitement.

The big day came…I got bugger-all.

My parents said that they had hidden the toys so that I would not find them and ruin the ‘surprise’ before Christamas.

They said that they had done such a good job of hiding them, that they couldn’t find them again.

Years later, when we moved house and stripped every item out of the place, the toys were still never found (funnily enough).

I can’t remember my Mum & Dad laughing directly at me when they came up with that one at the time, but no doubt they must’ve done and I just couldn’t see through my tearful-with-glee little eyes.

Evil pranks can be a bastard when it’s you on the arse-end, let me tell you.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Tue 18 Dec 2007, 11:26, 4 replies)

Ghost in the cupboard...
This QOTW reminds me of a lovely Halloween prank which occurred in McDonald's this year.

Halloween was upon us and we had the usual visits from trick or treaters dressed as something not-even-remotely scary trying to blag a free happy meal.

As we were all on a night shift (and extremely bored) the shift manager (I'll call him Ross because that was his name) decided to try and trick one of the new girls on shift. (She'd only been there a week, if that.)

He began recalling tales of how the store was built on an old cemetery which was never used after they opened a new one and relocated all the bodies. As the girl had only just moved here, she lapped the story up with great gusto, nodding like a Churchill dog at everything he said. Being blonde didn't help matters. (Sorry blondies!!!)

He then went into the inside stockroom, which has a slight hole in the wall with a pipe of some sort connecting to something. On the other side of this hole was a small stock cupboard which was used for holding cups, lids e.t.c.

The hole was slightly bigger than the pipe, just so you could fit an arm through. Beforehand, he told me and some other crew to let out a cough or a signal of some sort to alert him when she was near the cupboard.

Sure enough, when he was in place, she got near the haunted door. I coughed and he prodded the door with a brush handle which opened it slightly. The girl looking confused shut the door and went on her merry way.

Repeat about ten times and it gets boring. Then he decides to raise the bar. He waited for one of the other crew to ask her to fill the cups up and as she opened the door he put his hand through the hole and passed her a stack of cups.

Cue much screaming on her part and much hilarity on ours. She fled the store and quit shortly after.
( sausagesucker just paid £5.00 for a cup of Tea!, Tue 18 Dec 2007, 11:25, 4 replies)

My revenge prank
This story fall’s between the grey area of an evil prank and revenge.

Six months ago I split up with my squeeze after a seven year relationship. According to her we had drifted apart due to us both being committed to work. In reality – I found out she was fucking her boss. I guess she was just a lot more committed than me.

I decided to move out of our rented accommodation, and, to make it all a bit easier, I told her to go away for a week while I moved my stuff out. This gave her a week on her return to get her stuff out and would mean little contact between us and less chances of arguing on who owned the cutlery/light bulbs/cillit bang.

After packing all my stuff up and moving it into storage, I spent the last night wondering how it all went wrong and feeling sorry for myself. After a few too many whiskies this changed to anger. Eventually, after another few whiskies, this turned to outright rage and I decided that this cheating little whore disserves to be left a little prank.

I consulted B3ta’s QOTW on revenge. A bit of inspiration. I considered taking a dump in the butter (too obvious), Coating her vibrator in chili sauce (she had taken it with her) and numerous other pranks – none of which seemed quite fitting. It was while I was wanking into her Listerine when the flash of brilliance hit me.

I went into the bedroom and found her tub of very expensive leave-in conditioner. She put this on every Sunday to make her hair silky smooth – without fail. I opened the tub and emptied half out down the sink. I then went and got her bottle of hair removal cream – filled the tub back up and gave it a healthy shake.

Apparently – a few weeks after leaving her - she developed alopecia. Shame really. She had such nice hair silky hair before.
( KISS.ME.WHERE.I.POO Signed the sex offenders register on, Tue 18 Dec 2007, 11:17, 3 replies)

Duct tape shenanigans
I am new, but have lurked for ages. Here is my story:

A few years back I was working adjacent to a sewage treatment plant (we were building new settlement & storm tanks etc...) I worked with two other surveyors, one of whom was a complete pisshead.

One morning, pisshead comes into the office late and extremely hungover. He placed his elbows on his desk and held his cheeks in his hands, closing his eyes and seeminly trying to forget that his head was nipping like ruddy fuck.

The other surveyor noticed this, and, thoroughly pissed off at pisshead being a pisshead again, decided to play a little prank on him.

He took the roll of duct tape he had out of his drawer, and pulled out a length of tape. Holding the roll in one hand and the end of the tape with the other, he approached pisshead from behind, who was still cradling his head in his hands.

You can see where this is going.

Quick as a flash, he looped the tape over his face and wildly wrapped it around and around and around his head. He was too quick for pisshead, who, dispite resisting and trying to stand was overpowered, and now had his hands taped to the side of his face, and his eyes and mouth taped shut too.

He was proper pissed off, and jumped up from his chair flailing his elbows about like a mong, his nostrils flaring, knocking shit over, while we fell about laughing at the daft bastard. He managed to get it off in the end, but not without ripping out a lot of hair.

He saw the funny side and responded by drawing a massive swastika on the back of the other guys hi-viz jacket, and filling the hood with coloured chalk powder before rolling it back up again. Next time it rained he looked like that woman in 'Private Benjamin' that got fucked over by Goldie Hawn in the shower.

Length? Thinking about Goldie Hawn in the shower has improved it somewhat.
(Spaff_Quaffer Wise fwom your gwave., Tue 18 Dec 2007, 11:16, Reply)

Women are evil
A Few year back when my oldest was a toddler I had went on a works night out and got totally bladdered.

I got home and had the usual amorous drunken attempts at getting the wife to have sex knocked back as 'she hadn't been out, I stunk of beer and she was going to have to get up with the little one next day as I was in no fit state'.

Well of course I protested that of course I would get up with our child.. I loved her and of course it wasn't my fault as I had missed her all night and had been dying to get home and see her cos she was so sexy... After a great deal of persuasion I got my wicked little way and she got my thee inches of snarling death - only under the condition that I got up the next morning with Jake our 2yr old... seemed like a fair trade at the time.

The next morning 7am with a belly that was trying to vacate my body via my mouth and a headache against the world the 'deal' seemed less fair. Jake wanting to play and wanting breakfast was just too much to take, I love him to bits and would normally lay down and die for him but could he not understand that I had a major hangover???? I lay on the sofa and instantly had them sweats that tell you that you went silly the previous night.

Next thing I knew I was woken by my wife screaming, I realised I had fell into a deep hangover induced sleep.. however I also realised that this wasn't a you swine you went back to sleep, this was a panicked scream.

I jumped up to find our front door wide open with the wife screaming "where is Jake!!"... instantly I felt sick, not with beer but with fear, panic, guilt, the lot. What had I done? my little lad had got out of the house and was missing 'cos I was too hung-over to stay awake.. how bad a parent was I?.. what if something has happened to him.. how would I ever forgive myself?

I was in a state and was running round the street calling for him with tears starting to stream from my face.. about 2 minutes but what seemed like a lifetime later I heard my wife calling for me so I went back to the house fearing she had had some news of Jake's whereabouts and it wasn't going to be good...

I got back to the door and was met by my wife and a grinning 2yr old waving merrily at daddy - The wife had told Jake to hide from daddy upstairs, opened the front door and started screaming like a banshee. All just to get me back for falling asleep!!!

In fairness her little prank worked, I never fall asleep while in charge of the kids anymore and I NEVER make silly drunken promises in return for sex anymore but I feel that pranking you into thinking you are the cause of the loss of your child is maybe a touch harsh... if ever the story comes up she still has that look of womanly triumph that says "yeah, well it taught YOU who was boss though didn't it!"
(three inches of snarling death, Tue 18 Dec 2007, 11:10, 6 replies)

French Student Abuse
He should be known as Fred (it was hi..blah blah etc) and we knew him at Manchester Met.
Fred was a great guy but also a pain in the arse: messy, smelly (en francais, d'accord), got the hot chicks (usually outside the pub, next to the dumpster)and played bad French D&B whilst passing out with his room door locked.

When he woke he tended to wreck houses, but first he would always ALWAYS begin the day by wandering into the kitchen scratching his nads, and then take biiiiiig swig from the 2 litre bottle of ricard..because he was soooo rock n roll.

Revenge was fourfold.

# 1/ His first curry in rusholme. fred had never eaten curry, he mistakenly says '' ah laik food with the pepperrr''

That would be a vindaloo, extra piquant Mr giggling waiter.

Result: ''You fuggink bastads ow ow my face is burnink''

#2/ same night five minutes later. ''Wat arre the Green things in your curry Mr Markov?''
They are French beans and are loverly, want some to calm your burning?
''Daccord, yes please''

Unfortunately they were the hottest green chillies....more ''you fuggin bastads etc''

#3/ Broke into his room while he was passed out and glued/stapled etc everything to the ceiling (cupboards, pc, books etc) then got all his cans and food waste and attached that by strings at head height to the ceiling.

#4/ following on from no 3 on the same morning a spare bottle of Ricard was found and filled with chip pan oil. Thru the green glass it looked like ricard.

Fred wakes up and crashes into all kinds of insane upside down shit, swears a lot in French then comes out all gallic insouciance and walks to the kitchen where everyone is sniggering... and takes a biiiiiiig swig of rock n roll chipfat.

He loved us
(markov1723 Annoying Bavarians since, Tue 18 Dec 2007, 11:07, 2 replies)

Haven't got around to it yet, but...
...one waiting for a suitable victim is to alter their wheelie bin so that the words 'wheelie bin' are replaced with a suitable eye-catching label of 'scrapey bin'. "Scrapey bin? WTF?" they'll think to themselves. They'll get it when they try and move the thing and find the wheels have been removed...

Is it only me and one of my mates that find this side-splittingly amusing? I have a feeling it might well be.
(misanthrope is so adjective he's verbing nouns!, Tue 18 Dec 2007, 11:06, 6 replies)

Hmmmm.....
Probably another urban myth from the armed forces, but it sounds funny....

The story goes as follows; Take a load of squaddies / airmen / sailors out onto an exercise. Keep the aforementioned people awake as much as possible and wait for sleep deprivation to set in. Break open a load of cyalumes (glow sticks for those who don't know), and paint a skeleton onto one's uniform.

Then spend 5 minutes dancing like a loony around 50m from the guard posts at night.

Apparently the radio chatter is quite amusing.
(Darkpie 3.243F6A8885A308D31319, Tue 18 Dec 2007, 10:46, 1 reply)

my friend
jo is so so dopey in the mornings. i am one of those annoying people who jumps out of bed blithering about the joys of spring after 3 hours sleep, so it amuses me no end to watch her shambling around, hair everywhere, tripping over her dressing gown and barking at the kettle to boil a bit quicker.

so this morning, i watched her toast a caramelised onion and poppy seed bagel. i didn't say anything as she reached for the strawberry jam.... nor did i stop her slathering the bagel with it and hungrily biting into it.... i did stop her from spitting it all over my beautiful table, though. swallowing only in my flat.

so it turns out that onion and strawberry do not taste good together. the poppy seeds were dismissed.

meh, i'm working 18 hour days trying to clear my desk so i can get the hell out of uxbridge forever on thu. this and 2 min b3ta breaks are the highlight of my week!
( rachelswipe with a fork, Tue 18 Dec 2007, 10:37, 2 replies)

Another passing out story...
Our friend paul used to pass out, without fail, at every single party he attended. It got to the point where we had shaved and/or written on vitually every inch of his body and it was time to either stop or think up something new. As we were generally bored by the time paul passed out, stopping wasn't much of an option. Unfortunately as we were also generally quite unimaginative, thinking up new ways to torture him didn't go very well and in the end resorted to writing on him with something other than pen (criminal genius, I'm sure you'll agree). But what to use.... in the end we stumbled upon some Tippex (don't know what the rest of the world call it, but it's the white latexy goop used to cover up typos). Next came the stupidity. When deciding where to apply said Tippex it was apparently a really good idea to colour in his eyelids so he would look like a zombie(?!), oh how we laughed. A short time later paul awoke. Screaming. His eyes were burning and the laughter stopped. His vision was brutally impaired for two weeks and we went back to writing on him with pens.
Sorry mate, it seemed like a good idea at the time...
(brainmeat ... and that's why it burns when you pee., Tue 18 Dec 2007, 10:19, Reply)

One from the files...
Hi folks - I'm back. At least temporarily, probably just til the new year.

Not sure if this counts as evil, especially as it was an April Fool stunt, but it was certainly effective. Bit of background: I work in financial services and, as you will appreciate, the handling of sensitive data is something of an issue. So anyway, I was working in our Compliance area - dealing with complaints about mis-sold endowment policies. There are very strict rules about the length of time we have to reply to enquiries and then look into and deal with the complaint. There was a guy working there called Andy who packed it in and went off to Las Vegas one Christmas; the files for all his on-going cases were allocated to colleagues and we got him a card etc. End of story...

...come April I was plotting a series of pranks - most were pretty tame and involved putting an ad on our internal e-message board with silly ads e.g. 'Large pile of well-rotted horse manure free if you can collect' etc. But for our team leader I went a bit further. I went to our local market where a guy sold all sorts of tools and plugs etc. and bought a little ten-pack of craft files - a little flat file, half-round, triangular, rat's tail etc. Then I put them in the bottom drawer of Andy's old desk, which was still vacant. Then, with a serious face on, I went to our team leader's desk and said:

"Sharon, there's something you should see; I was just looking in Andy's drawers and I found a load of files." The look on her face was a treat - four months shut in a drawer!! This was a disciplinary matter. We went to his desk and I opened it up: took out the files and handed them to her...slowly the cogs started turning...then I said "April fool".

Ah yes, it went down in the annals of Compliance folk lore.
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Tue 18 Dec 2007, 10:18, 1 reply)

Think this is more of a crime than a prank....
My mate used to work in a store that sold condoms. He didnt get along with the boss so this translated into a scheme to get his own back.
Pricking holes in the entire stock of condoms was his prank.
Dont think the manager ever found out so whats the point?
(tedalaki - Like Purple Aki but better, Tue 18 Dec 2007, 9:58, 6 replies)

There are some flatmates in existance
Who like everything in their room to be just so.
Posters must line up straight with walls, anything pinned up must be done so securely, with a pin at each corner, etc.

Nothing like buggering over their day by stapling everything in their room to their noteboard.

Using their stapler.

And including their clothes.
(tarbin tarbis, tarbit, tarbamus, tarbimus, tarbant, Tue 18 Dec 2007, 9:49, 2 replies)

Both Parents pranked by child
Last Sunday I lay on the sofa after a particularly fine Roast Dinner. My beautiful, blonde, butter wouldn't melt, academic genius, 9 year old daughter lay with me as we watched a 'family' film before the American Football started. Narnia or something.....
My wife was on the other sofa.
I was in that very pleasant dozy state between waking and sleep, feeling all 'family' and bonded and all that stuff.
I then notice the child started to wriggle about a bit. I thought she was just trying to get comfortable. I half opened one eye, a split second too late, as it turned out. The next thing I feel is her hand wiping across my mouth. Almost instantaneously, I notice the smell of bum.
The little sod had 'Dirty Sanchezed' me!!!
As I screamed out what she had done and shot off the sofa, hearing her maniacal laugh, I look to my wife for support, just in time to see twin jets of PG Tips shooting out of her nose, as she realised what the little bugger had done to me.
Cue a race up the stairs to the bathroom to clean up first, the sound of raucous evil laughter chasing behind us.
As I used wire wool and Dettol to clean my face I was torn between a sense of abject horror and immense pride at her two-parent prank.
I then spent the next ten minutes chasing her round the living room as she chanted 'Daddy got poo-fingered!!!'
Needless to say, she has been told never to do that to Daddy again or next time the hamster will ride the U-bend without the appropriate diving equipment.

Length? The same as a 9 year old's index finger.
(EvilBugger, Tue 18 Dec 2007, 9:19, 4 replies)

Back in the days when I was in the fire protection industry.....
I had assumed a position as workshop/service manager for a local fire protection firm (extingushers, supression systems etc). Part of my position was to train a 17yo trianee.
One of my favourite pranks on him was sending him for a walk down the road to purchase a 2kg can of food grade petroleum jelly (we used this to lubricate "O rings" used in valves for suppression systems and extinguishers) along with an official purchase order. I printed and folded the order in half passed it to him and sent him on his merry way.
What should have been a 10 minute round trip resulted in him showing up 1/2 an hour looking flustered and red in the face.
"What the fuck took you so long!?" was my greeting.
"FUCK YOU!" he replies, shaking his head.
"Whats the fucking problem? I gave you the order, they have it on the shelf, it should not take that long to get a fucking tub of Vaso!" (vaso= petroleum jelly).
"you're a cunt!" is all he had to respond with.
Me:"Well what is the fucking problem?"
"Well, I handed over the order, asked for what you wanted. They had to call the manager down from his office to check the order, then they called the sales rep down. The sales rep had to call the storeman. The storeman had to then fax the order off to the suppliers to see if it was correct. then they gave me the goods along with the invoice and a copy of this order along with your purchase order which I read on the way back YOU CUNT!"

Did I forget to mention that I wrote:
"DO NOT SHAKE THIS GUYS HAND UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE!" in the "spcial instructions" part of the order.

Top young bloke, still calls me to this day for a chit chat and maintains that I am the best boss he ever had even though I was an absoloute cunt.

Bless ya Brody, you were a fucking legend to work with.
( Sir Pigeon Nipples Did you sit in some sugar?, Tue 18 Dec 2007, 7:21, Reply)