Way back when...
I worked in this food preparation place. Frequently on the early shift I'd share a spliff with the shift manager and we'd setup the young guy for various pranks.

The best one was the box of live steam in the storeroom - an empty sealed box in the middle of the floor. We convinced him it was full of live steam and mustn't under any circumstances be moved as it was VERY DANGEROUS. For a week this guy edged around this box when in the store until one day the manager followed him in and when he was the other side of the box, shouted his name and kicked the box at him - the screams were hilarious.

I swear the manager couldn't even stand up for 5 minutes he was pissing himself laughing so much. I seem to remember the young guy (Tom I think his name was...) was close to tears.

Ah, good days...
( snee held his breath since, Fri 14 Dec 2007, 9:08, Reply)

Well I think its evil
In my younger days I was fond of experimenting with such substances as... well, prety much whatever i got me hands on.

One particular night we got some LSD and after a night of fun and hilarity (that I shall save for future QOTW) we went back to my cousins house as his parents were away (same cousin as from previous QOTW answers).

When we got we started playing Sensible soccer and the likes on his Atari ST. It was about this time I realised that I was getting the LSD tomato headed sweats - this wouldnt normally be an issue but i couldn't even put a pair of shorts on being not in me own house and for some unbeknown reason I had decided to 'go commando' that day!.

Ever the gent my cousin offered to lend me a pair of his shorts which I gladly accepted and went off to the loo to change.

When I came back I began to get a slight touch paranoid.. my cousin and my friend who were there were looking at me like I had shit on my lip, trying not to giggle when looking at me (in fairness on LSD that is some feat). After about 10 minutes they didn't bother holding back and were laughing away whenever they looke at me. Those who have experienced will know the paranoia that sets in. But they assured me it was just the drugs and I was being paranoid..

Needless to say, i started to get a touch pissed off and asked them what was the matter - Eventually they told me that they had just been laughing about how I looked like Roy Keane (well before he went to Sunderland)... I wasn't convinced but let it lie and put up with the tripping buffoons .

It wasn't till about a week later i found out the real reason they were having laughing fits - my cousin hadn't any clean shorts for my to use so he had pulled his special shorts from under his bed, his spunk rag shorts!!.. and i had worn them all night with no underwear.. I shudder at the thought and still don't totally feel clean!

So click this if you feel my pain at knowing i have had my cousins dried out jizz dusting off the shorts into my pubes :(
(three inches of snarling death, Fri 14 Dec 2007, 9:02, 2 replies)

Floured II
DeliriumSpong reminds me of one of the favourite Armed Forces pranks:

On your last day in a barrack room, it is virtually de rigeur to empty talcum powder all over the blades of the overhead fan.

The next bunch of spotty twats moves in and sooner or later one of them will say "Phew, it's hot in here - mind if I switch on the fan for a bit?"

You know full well what will happen - it happened to you on your first day in the army...
( Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Fri 14 Dec 2007, 8:39, Reply)

My brother, who was older and more mature than I was at the time
visited me at uni. His parting gift was to go through ALL the shower gels and add the appropriate food colouring to it (so orange to an orange gel, blue to a blue one.)

Stains the skin rotten, that does. I had a slight tang of jaundice for a week, whilst my housemate constantly reminded people of hypothermia.
( Grrrmachine the indifference engine, Fri 14 Dec 2007, 8:29, 3 replies)

In the heady world of Foreign Language Teaching
it's considered bad form just to photocopy some old coursebook and dish it out to the students. But we all do it now and again, because photocopies are cheaper than paying the 10 quid a book the publishers demand.

One sheet of acetate and a quick go on the secretary's printer, I found it was possible to stick a thin transparent sheet onto the photocopier with tiny text printed on the lower edge. This text would be reproduced on every single photocopy made, until someone noticed the acetate.

Which nobody did. For about a month. After I'd printed "RECEIVED A PHOTOCOPY? CALL THE COPYRIGHT BREACH HOTLINE NOW!" followed by my bosses phone number.

He still gets the odd phone call from some vigilante student's mother three years later. Still doesn't know why though, hur hur hur.
( Grrrmachine the indifference engine, Fri 14 Dec 2007, 8:17, Reply)

Floured
Halls of residence, Liverpool JMU 1996.

Navy cadet type dude plays tricks on everyone, everyone gets bored of it and decides to play one on him.

Navy dude goes away, sensibly locking his bedroom door.

My mate gets a sheet of newspaper, a bottle of talc and a hairdryer. Slides newspaper half under door, empties talc onto the half on his side and uses the hairdryer to blow the talc under the door into the Navy dudes's room.

Navy dude returns to find his whole room and his expensive naval dress uniform lightly frosted with a thick layer of talc.

Length? He held a grudge for the rest of the year.
( DeSpong currently knitting your suggestions - see profile, Fri 14 Dec 2007, 7:58, 2 replies)

Two For You
These are almost certainly Urban Legends but, if they didn't happen, they should have.

Case one is a student who lived in shared halls and had the irritating habit of coming home most nights pissed out of his tree. Then, rather than going to bed, he invariably passed out on the floor of the living room.

So one night, two of the other housemates arrived back from a night out and found pisshead fast asleep on his back in the living room. Seeing that they were having chicken for dinner the next day, one of the student got the giblets from the chicken and pulled the pissheads zip down and put the giblets poking out like a peeled cock. Laughing the students went to bed.

They were woken the next morning by a scream and a crash so they dashed into the living room to find the fourth housemate unconscious on the floor, the pisshead still fast asleep and the house cat sitting on the pissheads stomach munching contentedly away at the giblets.


Case Two. Again, if this hasn't happened then it should have.

A stag-do were on the piss in Amsterdam when they ended up in a Gay bar. They had fun time swapping insults with the Gay's (nothing nasty, just silly banter) when they decided that they'd had enough to drink and decided to head back to the hotel. All except one guy who, for the purpose of this story I'll call Mark.

Well Mark didn't want to go yet. He was enjoying himself with his new-found Gay friends and he elected to stay and drink himself silly. And he did. Eventually he'd drank himself into a very messy state and was given a lift to his hotel by a friendly reveller.

On getting back to the hotel he proceeded to announce his presence by being loudly sick, then singing to himself, then knock over pretty much everything that was knock-overable and, in short, make a proper Charlie of himself and, in the process, woke up all of his mates. Then he passed out face down on his bed.

Well it was just too good a chance to miss so one of the guys pulled Marks pants down, got out a condom, spat into it and then, taking a pencil, stuffed it up Marks arse leaving a little hanging out.

The next day Mark was incredibly subdued. So subdued in fact that he refused to leave the hotel room for the rest of the trip. His mates kept asking him how he'd enjoyed himself at the Gay bar and was he sure he wasn't a secret Gay himself. Mark said nothing. Just went pale.

The story goes that the group kept this up the whole weekend and didn't tell Mark until they were on the flight home.

Like I said, if it isn't true, then it should be.

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Fri 14 Dec 2007, 7:28, 7 replies)

The prank that keeps on going......
IN the mid nineties, my mate ends up working in a high powered, serious money job in Thailand. He frequents the ahem bars ahem but has a problem. His name.

"Alastair" is completely unpronouncable by the girls, so, like about 90% of Thais he decides to use a nickname. Only he lets the girls help him choose it.......Biiiiiig mistake.

They explain that Alastair sounds similar to Oyster, and the Thai word for oyster is "hoi". OK, he thinks, I see the logic, so he goes around calling himself Khun Hoi (Mr. Hoi).

THREE YEARS LATER

While at a meeting tea break, an American Thai is casually chatting to him, and they swap business cards. The guy looks fazed, then looks at Alastair.

"Who gave you this nickname?"
"Er..some friends. Why isn't oyster a good name?"
"Technically Hoi can mean oyster, but usually it means cunt"

Long silence.
(mowlem, Fri 14 Dec 2007, 7:19, 1 reply)

gidee up
one kid who was particularly fond of sleepless nights in sixth form, fell asleep lying down across the common room chairs one late morning.

and so the game of rubbish buccaroo began!

empty yoghurt pot on the face set him off and it all went flying. he found a banana on his shoe, and 2/3 copies of heat all over him.

i think its better with medical waste
(bacneman, Fri 14 Dec 2007, 7:14, 1 reply)

Hahaha.
A little over 2 years ago, I started work at a company as the assistant to the Director of LIHTC (Low Income Tax Housing Credits - kind of a form of Housing Benefit for you lot back home).
She loved me, constantly compared me to her previous assistant and swore I was the best thing since sliced bread.
Trouble was, she was a totally anal bitch, and nice as she was had a major problem with me suggesting how things "could" be done more efficiently etc.

After a few weeks of this, I was getting very bored and very annoyed with my bosslady. It was Xmas time, so at the Christmas party me and some other girls got together after a few beers.
My boss was going away for the week in between Christmas and New Year. At the time, my desk was in a very prominent position by the filing cabinets and photocopier and I had no chance to even read CNN let alone fuck around on the puter.
The girls I spent our Xmas party with had already told me there was an open cube by them, so a plan was hatched.
I had HR in on it, my boss's boss and most of the rest of the staff.
We took everything from my cube and moved it into the other one while she was away.
The morning she was due back, hubby took me to work so my car wasn't in the parking lot. She walks in and my (old) cube was empty. HR was right outside my new cube. I'm sat there pissing myself laughing while the boss asks HR what the fuck is going on, and totally deadpan HR says I had quit and to talk to her boss. Who said I had quit (bless him, this was a highly corporate company too!).

It all came to a head when she ran around my friends at work and told them all I'd quit, and she couldn't understand it as I was "Happy as a clam". At that point, Jen, Karen and Gina busted up laughing and I walked out of the cube and said "Hi boss, listen you need to deal with this client".

She didn't talk to me for a week, but at the following Xmas party her boss promised her I wouldn't be quitting that week.
( Batshitmentalist is sane for once, Fri 14 Dec 2007, 6:06, Reply)

Ghosts
I used to share a flat with a deranged, alcoholic, satan worshipper who claimed to be able to perform magick, aleister crowley style. You know, splitting clouds on command??, evil curses that somehow never came to fruition etc etc. So one fine sunny day he left to go do satany things in the country and me being bored and a little stoned decided to have a little fun. Where we lived had deadlocks on all the doors from the inside, but my flatmate had left the window unlocked on his bedroom, so i climbed on through and spent a couple of hours meticulously arranging his drum kit upside down making strange patterns out of all his clothes on the floor similar to the occult writings he was so fond of, placing his figurines and crap in a veritable orgy of stupidness. Then i locked said window and walked out through the bedroom door which then obediently locked behind me. On arrival home I watched as he unlocked and entered his bizarro room then came out ashen faced telling me to come see what had happened. Trying not to giggle, i followed him in and preceeded to be mystified and a little fearful of what appeared to be a supernatural force in our little house, probably due to his awry spellcasting. After a few hours of investigation and theorizing, he decided that he couldn't sleep another night in the room and dragged his mattress into the loungeroom where he slept for the next three months until we moved house. I didn't have the heart to tell him because he was a bit of a wanker and i loved the conviction with which he recalled the events of that day to some bemused friends who i let in on the joke, and to their credit never let on. To top it off his Mrs got sick of the craziness and ended up having a crack at yours truly in the next house we moved into and he left shortly after.. Ha
(neighbour of the beast 668 has watched you in secret on, Fri 14 Dec 2007, 5:37, Reply)

Another one from Uni
There were 10 guys on the ground floor - and 2 floors of 10 girls above us - Life was good.

Anyhow, a couple of the girls were incredibly naive (to be kind) or dumb (to be honest), and they accepted me and my mate as being the worldly-wise pair that we were because we were a whole year older and had been travelling in our gap years.

This meant that we could tell them anything, and as long as we spoke with an air of gravitas, they'd believe us.

We got some absolute corkers in there - I'm still amazed at how we came up with half of it. Things like 'the origin of american football was from the prohibition years - one year there was a riot and someone pulled a policeman's head off and started throwing it around'. They lapped it up - hook line and sinker.

My favourite one was when I told one of the girls in a very matter of fact way that when men sit on the toilet, we have to sit facing the cistern, so that our dangly bits don't risk getting caught between the seat and the porcelain.

It was amusing enough in itself, but by sheer luck we happened to walk past her one day when she was chatting to a bloke she really fancied, and she asking him about it. The look on his face was priceless.

My piece de resistance however duped the girls and my partner in crime all at the same time.

They were all city folk, and had no idea what the countryside was all about, and it was around the same time as the League of Gentlemen was on TV. I grew up in a small village in Warwickshire, and we decided to spend a weekend there at my parents place.

Once we arrived, we decided to visit the local 'country pub'. On the walk over the road (I said it was a small village) I explained to them about John, the barman.

I knew he'd be there, so I knew this would work. I explained to them that the tall guy with the beard was a little unhinged, and he had a weird 'thing'. Basically - whatever you - DO NOT look him in the eye. He goes mad and starts smashing all of the bottles and glasses behind the bar. All of the locals know not to do it, so just be really careful.

Cue me walking in and ordering my drink, then watching each of them in turn trying to ask this guy for a pint whilst staring over his shoulder or at his chest.

Oh how I laughed at them after we got home.

City folk, eh.
( HoratioFellatio Taking the the out of psychotherapist, Fri 14 Dec 2007, 3:21, Reply)

way back in the early days of the internets...
a tech savvy friend of mine had his very own website. Neato!

He kept all his musings and schoolwork there, along with some photos. Very much a precedent to the blog.

He's probably the nicest person in the world. He's a wonderful chap who doesn't have a bad word to say about anybody, except John Howard, but lets face it, thats pretty natural.

So I downloaded a particularly nice picture of him and got to work with some VERY crude photoshoppery. Big red bombs and missiles, knives and blood and an angry red scrawl of "****'s is a cunt" "****'s will die" ,etc, etc, etc. and promptly emailed it from an anonymous address.

The poor bloke was bemused at first, and questioned all his friends, myself included, and I for once managed to keep a straight face in my denial of knowledge.

The email photoshoppery and abuse continued and I watched my poor friend get more and more distressed by it all, but I couldn't stop. The worst part was, I was the one he was turning to for support. I felt so dirty, no one else knew it was me, and everyone was very concerned for him. It scares me that I got addicted to the fun of it.

Then I got drunk and told him. I laughed. So did he, eventually.
(lessmiserable, Fri 14 Dec 2007, 3:04, Reply)

Another Chris story
In grade 8, I was one of the top students of my class. It was slim pickin's so that's not saying much. Anyway, I needed some muscle to back me up, and Chris needed some brainpower to get him to the next grade, so we made quite a team. But I had a cruel tendency to manipulate him. And whenever I got caught, it was up to me to talk my way out from under his fists.

One such time, he was mad at me--can't remember why--so I offered to do his science homework. It was just the weekly fill-in-the-blanks sheet, double sided, maybe 20 questions. The teacher would read us the answers in class and we would be honour bound to mark our papers honestly. After we were done marking, he would ask us all for the grade we got.

So I did a brutal job on Chris' homework. I think I gave him three questions right. We were marking in class, and he looked at me from the other side of the room with that "I'm gonna kill you" look.

After class, he confronted me, and I was apologetic. I promised to do the next assignment for him.

Next week in class, the teacher was reading out the correct answer and Chris was staring down at his page in disbelief. I'd bombed his assignment again. This time he was really ready to kill me.

After class, he confronted me, and I was apologetic. I promised to do the next assignment for him.

You know where this is going, don't you? Fortunately, the cycle was broken because on the day the third assignment was supposed to be marked, he was absent. It might have gone on forever otherwise.
(racetraitor has an alibi for, Fri 14 Dec 2007, 3:00, Reply)

The Toffee Apple
I actually got this idea from an old newsgroup called alt.revenge.

Go to your victims bed and strip off the covers. Then get a roll of cling-film and cover the top of the mattress with a layer of the stuff, taking care to cover every inch. No gaps - thats important. Now take a nice box of caster sugar, note, it must be caster and not granulated as that would be uncomfortable and your mark would feel it, and liberally cover the cling-filmed mattress with it. Then remake the bed.

Now what happens is that your mark falls asleep and starts to sweat - as we all do. The sweat can't be absorbed by the matttress as normal because of the cling film. So the sweat slowly dissolves the caster sugar which then moves through the sheets and coats your enemy with a nice layer of caster sugar.

Hey Presto! One human toffee apple.

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Fri 14 Dec 2007, 2:59, 1 reply)

I've done some evil ones
In recent years my best pranks have involved drawing people's heads with a permanent marker when they pass out. One victim spent six days in Japanese jail and another was nearly hospitalised when he discovered all the writing on his head when I wasn't around.

My biggest, most elaborate, most classic prank was done when I was 13. My best friend for that year was Chris, a big white trash guy with a mullet who was, how should I put it, brain-cellularly disadvantaged. I was half his size but I could manipulate him to do anything I wanted. For example, read this story:
b3ta.com/questions/myfirstporn/post70748

But he was creative, I'll give him that. Every few months he would create a new persona for himself. One month he was WWF superstar Lex Luger, "the Nature Boy." Yes, pro wrestling fan is a very good qualifier of the sort of person he was. Next month, he was Captain Kirk. We went on a field trip to an IMAX theatre and when he sat down he remarked "This reminds me of my chair on the Enterprise." He saw me as my science officer and wanted to call me Spook (don't worry, I'm not black). The longest lived persona was Lord Vader.

Once at my Ukrainian grandmother's home, I learnt that "you stupid" in Ukrainian is pronounced "tih durnay." Inspiration stuck. I told Chris that "tih durnay" is Klingon for "Hail the lord." Ultimately I had half the school shouting "You stupid!" at him in Ukrainian, and he'd just smile proudly and say "That's right." It lasted a year, until another friend was mad at me for some reason and told Chris the truth. Chris was mad, and I needed to find a way to squirm out of this one.

So I told him he could be a part of the next prank. I got another word, "shusnak," which is Ukrainian for garlic (thus a very important word to them). I told Chris it was really a horrible Ukrainian swear. And I told Chris that I'd convinced another friend, Greg, that it meant "Nice hair." So I got Greg in on the secret: Chris was going to shout "Garlic!" at him, and he was required to run a hand through his hair and say "thanks." Next time Chris saw Greg, "Shusnak!" "Thanks," said Greg, running a hand through his hair. Chris burst into laughter and took off running, and Greg told me "You better not be lying to me." That was pretty well the end of it around there.
(racetraitor has an alibi for, Fri 14 Dec 2007, 2:54, Reply)

Minesweepers
.
We've all met these. Cunts in nightclubs who sneak up on your unguarded pint and steal it.

My solution? Go to the bog with an empty pint. Fill it with piss and then run the cold tap over the outside of the glass for a few minutes. Then back into the club and leave it in a prominent postition.


Job done.

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Fri 14 Dec 2007, 2:53, 7 replies)

I / people I've socialised with
do alot of cuntish things when pranking people (usually each other). Lets see, I do remember hearing about putting a viagra into someones drink, so we gave that a go with pretty hilarious results. Pissing into others beers is a speciality, usually saved for festivals. Another one, specifically designed for festivals, is to get those thick plastic sandwich ties, and lock up the zips on tents (always fun at around 4am when most of the party mad have passed out in their tent).

Aside from dropping viagra, polo mints in cans of diet coke, if timed correctly when somebodies back is turned, will give a lovely indoor water feature effect.

My recent favourite, although not quite a prank, was when I went food shopping with my sister. I got in line to do the lottery as time was getting near, and she went around to get food and all that gubbins. By the time she'd got back around, I was still queueing up.

Her: "You've been queueing all this time? You know cut off time for lotto is 5 minutes?"

Me: "I know, but - Did you know that if you miss the cut off point because the queue isn't moving fast enough, and your numbers DO come up, the shop or supermarket you are in, by law, has to pay you the equivalent you would have won had your numbers come through."

This fascinated her, and as far as I know she still believes this and may even have mentioned this nugget of obscure information to some of her friends.

: D
( McBadger COW, Fri 14 Dec 2007, 2:20, Reply)

boring i know and NSFW
www.fingerbang.com, i hate when i hit my hand whilst hammering

length what do you think, i have to resort to crap like this

NSFW
(pogo_it, Fri 14 Dec 2007, 2:07, 1 reply)

Crisps
While at university, I once filled Bugsy's bed with beef flavoured crisps.

Upon returning from the pub that evening and discovering this, he cycled the five miles or so to my house, and emptied a catering-sized can of baked beans and two bottles of head and shoulders over my car.

I don't think I won that round.
(theweapon never ever bloody anything ever, Fri 14 Dec 2007, 1:41, Reply)

Spiralling out of control
I think I've posted this story before - but this topic is perfect for it.

When I was at Uni, I lived in halls for the first year. There were 10 guys, all living in close proximity on the ground floor. We all got along really well, which was nice, but then the rivalry started. Not with me, but between two guys who shall remain nameless.

I forget what started the pranking, but neither of them were to be outdone, so the whole thing rapidly spiralled into more and more horrendous acts being performed.

I believe one of the first things was 'T', pissing in a cup and leaving it under the bed (and next to the radiator) in 'O's room. Surprisingly enough, a few days later, his room stank of rancid piss, an it was starting to leak into the hallway, so we all broke our vow of silence and got him to do something about it.

O responded by waiting until the day before reading week, and smearing a jar of fish paste on the back of T's radiator.

By the time we got back - the entire hall smelt like a crack whore's gusset, and T couldn't even walk into his room without being sick.

Anyway - this tye of thing continued for quite some time, with some pranks being funnier than others.

The final round, which was never truly finished for reasons which will soon become apparent, stooped to levels bordering on the illegal.

They were both genetics students, and therefore had access to fruit fly eggs, as apparently fruit flies reproduce very quickly, so it's easy to test on them or something. Cue T stealing a handful of said eggs from the lab and wandering home with plans of mischief.

His plan was to drop the eggs into O's box of cornflakes that afternoon. O didn't touch his cereal until the next morning which is about as long as fruit fly eggs need to hatch.

Now I'm a very heavy sleeper - especially so in my uni days, when 3pm wake up times were the norm.

However - I heard the screams. And the shouts.

I threw some clothes on and ran out to the source of the noise.

Upon entering the kitchen, I inhaled a good handful of flies. The noise was something that will still haunt me to this day, and the air was thick with buzzing insects.

We all ran out, trying in vain to contain the infestation in just the kitchen.

By the end of the day, we were all loitering on the grass outside whilst a full team of fumigators went in to clear up the 'problem'.

So that was a pretty good invitation for O to get his own back.

Inspired by the 'stealing stuff from the labs' idea, he concocted a plan so evil, yet hilarious, he had everyone on his side.

There is a chemical that they use in their experiments called phenyl phenol (or something). I have no idea what it's used for, but apparently, it's effect on humans is as a very powerful muscle relaxant.

So much so, that just a few drops in an unsuspecting chump's drink, within the minute, they will release the sphincters holding any kind of bodily waste.

I.E - you piss and shit yourself on the spot.

The plan was to do this on a saturday night, in the 'hip' place to be in town, so that he would suffer the embarrassment of doing it in front of all of the hottest girls available to us. Not only that - on that night - he decided to wear light coloured trousers.

The atmosphere was electric - we were all so excited to see this horrendous act take place, yet had to reserve our emotions so as not to arouse suspicion.

On the way there, O got a call from his sister, who happened to be a nurse. He mentioned the plan to her, and she had heard of the said chemical, and informed him that 25% of the population are fatally allergic to it.

Most of us continued to egg him on regardless - it was a risk worth taking, but (with hindsight) sensibly, O decided not to go through with it.

Oh well - the idea was grand, but it never happened.
( HoratioFellatio Taking the the out of psychotherapist, Fri 14 Dec 2007, 1:28, 3 replies)

Only just on-topic...
...but all of the talk of Ferrero Rocher on the fisrt page reminded me of this tale.

For Keith's stag do (at Butlins in Bognor Regis; a classy sort of affair), Dave and I obtained a variety of tins of booze - various lagers, ales, ciders, etc, and some special brew* and sprayed all of them gold so that the drinker wouldn't know what he was getting until he opened the can and took a gulp. We then arranged them in a rocher-esque pyramid in one of our chalets.

The 'prank' aspect (if there is one) is that everyone apart from the stag was briefed on how to identify the special brew cans (they were slightly bigger than the rest) and thus avoid them, while ensuring that the stag recieved a steady stream of them.

Consequently the stag has no recollection of the weekend whatsoever.

I'm sure there's a picture of the pyramid of cans somewhere. I'll try and dig it out. It stood about three feet high and looked like something the incas would have worshipped.

* For non-UK residents, Special Brew is a sort of highly potent ale, known colloquially as 'tramp fuel' for its price (low) and effectiveness at getting you falling-down-and-soiling-yourself drunk (high).
(theweapon never ever bloody anything ever, Fri 14 Dec 2007, 1:23, Reply)

This was a prank against the worst boss I ever had.
A horrible, horrible man who managed to even get complete strangers to hate him. He was very possesive of his office, to the point of insisting that our Admin Bloke moved from the office that had always been shared with the boss to the slightly smaller office next door, which had always been the Tech Bloke's office and share with him. Admin Bloke was obviously a bit put out at this and asked the rest of us to help him gain some small measure of revenge. My idea won the day.
The prank? We have an Office Cat, being a cat he quite regularly brought in mice to kill. For the next few months we'd get the killed mice off him on nightshifts, and hide them in the boss's office, usually under his foot-rest. Then turn the heating up full and relock the door. An hour before the end of shift we'd turn the heating back down again. By the end of the second week the room stank. The boss would call us in to ask if we could smell anything. Cue straight faces and negative replies. The cleaners were in on the joke, so made no effort to help him. We got the Air Trafficers in on it, and he started to call them in to ask too.
To the day he left he never worked out where the smell was coming from.
It turned out that one of my colleagues was also pursuing a personal prank against him too. The boss had a catering sized tin of Cadbury's Drinking Chocolate that he kept in his office so as not to have to share it with us plebs. Except that the level of drinking chocolate in the tin never seemed to go down that much. This was because my mate Pete had been secretly adding ground up dried flies to it for about a year.
( stuj (^(^;;^)^) GO TEAM SPIDERS!(^(^;;^)^), Fri 14 Dec 2007, 1:23, 2 replies)

Oily!
Years ago when I was in the RAF, having spent time with some of the strangest people you can possibly even consider, pranks and gags were, as you can imagine, bandied around with much amusement.

I can still hear Stu Williams' Welsh cries now... "My fucking shoes! What have you bastards done to my fucking shoes?!"

We had bought some white enamel paint (only stuff that will stick to leather No 1 parade shoes, and painted them a perfect shiny gleaming white. Next day we had a No 1 inspection, no less :)

But, of all gags, this was one of the best.
There was a small ginger lad, who owned a Mk1 Escort. Pristine it was, with alloys, chrome, big exhaust, nice stereo, the works. Worth an absolute fucking mint. Had even shown it off at shows and won some awards or whatnot.

I decided, that as his girly affection for his car, and refusal to pick up us lads from the local watering hole (he didn't drink) would require some form of payback. Retribution, if you like.

I got hold of his keys, and pulled one of the spark leads off the distribution cap, just enough so it doesn't IMMEDIATELY look loose, but will cause a cylinder not to fire, and obviously the engine will run shit as a result.

Next, roll car backwards, and under where the engine is, pour a nice quantity of the dirtiest old diesel oil on the floor. Roll car back, lock car, and return keys.

Next day, being a Friday, and a early finish Friday at that, we are all packed up ready to go. Cue ginger tosser starting car, and hearing the noisy starting and obvious shuddering caused by the engine, he looks somewhat confused.
He gets out, and we are all "alright, that sounds a bit noisy, mind you, was a bit damp earlier, it'll be alright in a bit!".
Cue him jumping back in, and reversing.
You now have a few lads looking aghast at the massive puddle of oil from where he has just reversed, and shouting "STOP!!!".

A whiter than white faced ginger emerges from the car, looks at the floor, looks at the car, and is horrified. Lads looking quite forlorn for him, till I whisper to a mate what I had done. One face of thunder and me thinking I'm about to me murdered, to one of impish glee, and he whispers "this will treat the little twat to NOT pick us up from the pub!"

Now, obviously, hes in near hysterics, but, theres nothing hes prepared to do, as he thinks hes just fucked his engine.
Off he trots, makes a phone call to AA recovery, and then to guard room to arrange for AA truck to come through main gates to car park.

At this point, said mate has let on what I've done, and its spreading like wildfire round the melee of people fucking off for the weekend. Hence, we then decide to bugger off to the Naffi for a couple of pints while we wait for others to get packed up, and end up getting pissed as lords as people come in to buy us drinks for this excellent jape.

Piece de la resistance?

Walking up to the AA guy as he's got it hlaf way up his tow truck, and telling him, with the sincerity that you can only muster when half pissed, that its actually just the spark lead, and the oil was a joke puddle. Ginger had demanded that said AA man not touch his car, but just simply to take it and him home.

AA man in tears of hysterics, best joke for a while lads, nice one, and as soon as Ginger comes back from whereever he had disappeared from, AA man straightens up, tells him to jump in, and takes Ginger home (somewhere near Carlisle if I recollect correctly, and this from Cosford, near Wolverhampton!).

Cue monday morning, 7am, and Ginger returns in motor. Nothing said to us all week, hes basically shunned us. Turns out when AA man dropped him off and unloaded his car (some 5 or 6 hours later), he told him.

Nice one AA man, if I ever see you again I will personally buy you drinks all night.

Apologies for length, but tales like this are always best served with warm gravy.
( Tesco Quality 60.825659, -0.788337, Fri 14 Dec 2007, 0:59, Reply)

School boy larks
This was suprisingly effective. All we did was paper the school with a teacher's name.

Just his last name. On little scraps of paper stuck onto pipes as you walked past. Or dropped as cryptic litter.

The effect? Every class he took would be asking him why his name was everywhere. He had no answer.

And gradually the posters started saying 'Teacher's Name for President' 'For Pope' 'has been abducted by Aliens'.

All culminating with a giant 'TEACHER'S NAME' in A4 sized letters taped above the lunch counter just before break (had to run like the blinders to get downstairs in time to stroll into the hall just behind the teacher and the Headmaster).

Its a bit like Chinese water torture, the young kids especially became completely unteachable as they pestered the teacher to find out what was going on.

Click 'I like this' if you like abstract pranks.
(timewasterboy now with added wastage, Fri 14 Dec 2007, 0:40, 3 replies)

i feel bad for this one
this prank must have been played by everyone here at some point!

anyways when i was in my early teens (about 10 years back now) we used to regularly have sleepovers at each others houses' and the game of dares would nearly always be played however the dares we played could only be played my mixing any 3 ingredients found in the kitchen and then daring another friend to drink it.
We would always have something at the ready to was the (regularly) putrid taste away.

anyways this time pete was the victim. pete was the slightly strange one of the group at no one really liked but he always seemed to be there. We distracted pete with the choice of ingredients while my brother and good friend kev pissed into his cola, added pepper, washing up liquid, milk, you know the usual rank tasting stuff.

pete then took a taste of his dare food, tomato ketchup mixed with milk and cod liver oil if i remember right. spitting this everywhere and showing a remarkable gag reflex he grabbed his cola bottle only to down a good few deep gulps before being struck by the taste of its foul contents.

his reaction was honestly the funniest thing i have ever seen!! green bubbles coming out of his mouth as he puked.


man i was a sick sick boy!
(meh! bored since, Fri 14 Dec 2007, 0:37, Reply)

mother-in-law, don't most deserve it?
A few years back, think it was april fools day actually, we turned on the shower, then proceeded to turn off the water at the mains.
Cue one now off shower with no water pressure. After disconnecting the water feed to the bathroom from the boiler downstairs, we the used nearly 4 bottles of ketchup filling the shower pipes up.
Shower off, water back on, and wait.

When the monster in law jumped in the shower in the morning, the scream that erupted from the bathroom was bloody intense, the dog heard it before me. I just spat my cornflakes at my missus and pissed my self laughing, while my other half was trying to gain access to the bathroom to 'help mum'.

I've been divorced now for 2 years, but it's still a really fond memory.
(Mensa Reject has gone out, I'll be back on, Fri 14 Dec 2007, 0:36, 2 replies)

That's not funny...
This isn't something I did, but something that was done to me.

Back around '99 I was involved with a group of people, some friends, some strangers, in running a Live Action Roleplaying game at a convention. Yep, label me Mr Geeky. I played a doctor in a frontier western town, the frontier of the known galaxy that is. Think of it as a bit like Firefly, some years before the actual show aired.

The game went on, all was good, nothing weird happened there.

Some weeks later I had the chance to go the USA for business. One of my friends from the game and I were having an email back and forth about various things, and I mentioned the trip. He asked why I was going, and apparently I failed to respond in a timely enough fashion to his question.

His response to this was to email everyone who had been involved in the game (15 or more people, many of them people I barely knew) with a message saying

`Remember Tomble, the guy who played the doctor in our game? Unforunately he's been diagnosed with renal cancer and is off to the U.S. for treatment next week. Drop him a line to let him know you're thinking of him'.

So, I got a few messages, and a message from my `friend' saying `Enjoy the prank? heh heh'.

The worst message I got was from a girl at the game who said `I was diagnosed with MS last year, so I know you must be feeling pretty down. Let me know if you want to chat'.

I emailed her back and let her know that it had been a `prank', and she was a bit stunned. Emailed back and forth a bit more, and we've been together for 8 years now.

A few years later I was reintroduced to someone from the game and they furrowed their brow and asked `didn't you have chemotherapy or something shortly after that?'.

I pranked him back a bit later with a `fake format' program that loaded at startup on his PC, which had never been backed up and contained everything he had written for the previous few years. He nearly had a stroke right there as he clicked `cancel' and it started thrashing the hard drive and displaying a progress bar.

Apologies for penis. I mean length.
(Tomble Underground, overground, Tombling free., Fri 14 Dec 2007, 0:35, 1 reply)

Tuna/hot chocolate
I used to work in a hut which strangely sold pizzas, my job: phone monkey. Additional duties: fetching ingredients for the 'chef' characters.

As a perk of sorts, you were allowed as much of any soft beverage that you so desired. I combined the free drinks with the ingredient fetching in a novel fashion by using the following steps:

1. Fetch a hot chocolate from the hot chocolate machine.
2. Get a spare cup.
3. Drain the cans of tuna into spare cup.
4. Spoon milky fluff off of the hot choc onto the tuna juice.
5. Await victim.

So, after waiting a while, one of the waitress girls walked past, I asked her to check this hot chocolate 'cos I was worried that it tasted funny. She took a drink from it, and started retching so much I started to get worried that I'd get fired for making someone yak in the kitchen (she didn't in the end).

Oh hilarious days of wonderment...
( Liquid Crystal, Fri 14 Dec 2007, 0:24, Reply)