Evil Pranks
As a student Joel Veitch attached a hose from the sink into my bed. I slowly woke thinking I'd pissed myself. I had the last laugh though. He had to pay for my ruined mattress.
What's the most evil prank you've ever played on someone?
( , Thu 13 Dec 2007, 14:01)
As a student Joel Veitch attached a hose from the sink into my bed. I slowly woke thinking I'd pissed myself. I had the last laugh though. He had to pay for my ruined mattress.
What's the most evil prank you've ever played on someone?
( , Thu 13 Dec 2007, 14:01)
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GCO MC
My brother is a big bad tattooed biker, and had organised a rally in a field by a local boozer. Bands booked, tickets on sale, everything dandy...... then I decide to intervene.
This was back in the days before the interweb and computers were everywhere, so I got my Ma to type up a super professional-looking letter from a gay motorcycle club who had apparently inadvertantly been double-booked at the same venue.
Explaining that it would be absolutely spiffing if they could combine the two rallies, I outlined plans for a "Bristliest Moustache" contest, along with "Mr Wet Y-Fronts" and "Big Bunch of Keys" contest.
I layed on thick the innuendo, you know, standard stuff, asking for prizes for the abovementioned contests to be things like "a good ride on a big chopper" etc.
Finishing by asking for 50 tickets in advance, complete with a "jokey" question about who to shag for a discount, I lit the blue touch-paper and retired to a safe distance.
Well, to say bro was unamused is to understate things slightly. His business partner took one look at the letter and decided he was having nothing more to do with it, despite plenty of tickets sold. Bro was incandescent with rage, his meticulously planned beerathon would be ruined as soon as the first pair of backless leather trousers minced into view. (Chaps? Ooh, yes, I'll say!)
He knew disaster loomed, no-one was going to simply shrug it off and welcome the GCO MC (Gays Coming Out Motorcycle Club) into their fold, it would interrupt the axe throwing competition. Fucking hell, who is going to want to go to the "camp site"? That's it, cancel it!!!
It was only after my parents stopped laughing long enough to point out that the letter was signed by a P McCracken, could it possibly be Phil? Maybe the whole thing might be a prank? With that, but not totally convinced, he calmed down a bit.
I spent that whole weekend interrupting him and telling him a beefy bloke with a huge moustache on a pink motorbike was asking for him at the gate - he went white every single time.
The best of it is that to this day he is still unaware I am the culprit, because I had managed to keep a straight face when quizzed about the origins of the letter. He hasn't organised any more rallies though. Ho hum!
( , Mon 17 Dec 2007, 13:44, 3 replies)
My brother is a big bad tattooed biker, and had organised a rally in a field by a local boozer. Bands booked, tickets on sale, everything dandy...... then I decide to intervene.
This was back in the days before the interweb and computers were everywhere, so I got my Ma to type up a super professional-looking letter from a gay motorcycle club who had apparently inadvertantly been double-booked at the same venue.
Explaining that it would be absolutely spiffing if they could combine the two rallies, I outlined plans for a "Bristliest Moustache" contest, along with "Mr Wet Y-Fronts" and "Big Bunch of Keys" contest.
I layed on thick the innuendo, you know, standard stuff, asking for prizes for the abovementioned contests to be things like "a good ride on a big chopper" etc.
Finishing by asking for 50 tickets in advance, complete with a "jokey" question about who to shag for a discount, I lit the blue touch-paper and retired to a safe distance.
Well, to say bro was unamused is to understate things slightly. His business partner took one look at the letter and decided he was having nothing more to do with it, despite plenty of tickets sold. Bro was incandescent with rage, his meticulously planned beerathon would be ruined as soon as the first pair of backless leather trousers minced into view. (Chaps? Ooh, yes, I'll say!)
He knew disaster loomed, no-one was going to simply shrug it off and welcome the GCO MC (Gays Coming Out Motorcycle Club) into their fold, it would interrupt the axe throwing competition. Fucking hell, who is going to want to go to the "camp site"? That's it, cancel it!!!
It was only after my parents stopped laughing long enough to point out that the letter was signed by a P McCracken, could it possibly be Phil? Maybe the whole thing might be a prank? With that, but not totally convinced, he calmed down a bit.
I spent that whole weekend interrupting him and telling him a beefy bloke with a huge moustache on a pink motorbike was asking for him at the gate - he went white every single time.
The best of it is that to this day he is still unaware I am the culprit, because I had managed to keep a straight face when quizzed about the origins of the letter. He hasn't organised any more rallies though. Ho hum!
( , Mon 17 Dec 2007, 13:44, 3 replies)
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