My sister thought I was in Birmingham, some 125 miles away
I wasn't. I was behind the kitchen door, waiting for her to collect the "present" my parents* had left for her on the table.

I've never before or since heard someone make quite the noise she made when I jumped out...



*Who were in on the joke



Edit: I also once climbed out of her bedroom window onto the flat roof outside and waited for her to come to bed before leaping up at the window wearing a scream mask.
( MatJ LOOK, Thu 4 Apr 2013, 18:52, 1 reply)

Halloween
G/f's kids are going trick or treating, I'm chaperoning as the "responsible adult", making sure they only go to houses with pumpkins and decorations in the window (i.e. the ones inviting trick or treaters) and making sure they don't get asked to come in by some nonce and so on. They (the kids and their friends) are five moppets all under ten, dressed as a selection of mainly adorable ghosts, vampires and witches and similar. I, a six foot, ninety kilo, not-fat adult human man, am wearing a black morphsuit. I look, in the early evening darkness, like a hole in space, or an animated shadow detached from whoever's casting it. Possibly. Whatever I look like, it is undisputably fucking creepy. It's especially creepy when I'm standing silently at the back of said group of kids, and they've all helped themselves to the sweets and choccies and gone on their way, and I just... stand there. Motionless. And the kids (or adults) handing out the sweets look at me uncertainly, not quite sure if I'm real, I think... and then I leap forward, give them a cheery wave six inches from their faces, say "THANKS!", and run off. At least three kids cried. Harmless fun on Halloween...
(SonofRojBlake, Thu 4 Apr 2013, 18:48, 1 reply)

Metaldeath
My cousin once replaced the Rod Stewart CD in my Gran's CD player with a Metallica CD. She got quite a surprise when she went to listen to Rod that night...
(Sick Boy likes to swear a lot, Thu 4 Apr 2013, 17:38, 3 replies)

I once was invited to a a barbecue
Arriving at the address, I went inside. I could hear the people chatting in the backyard, so I helped myself to a beer from the fridge, and noticing the day's paper, I sat down on the couch and started reading the sport. The backdoor opened and woman walked in, saw me, and screamed, dropping her basket of laundry. Turns out I was in the neighbour's house
( cumquat may will not be commenting further on the allegations, Thu 4 Apr 2013, 17:18, Reply)

Surprise.
My workmate Rod went to Lake Baikal, just north of Mongolia, on some Greenpeace-related business. After a 3,000 mile rail journey in freezing conditions, taking many days during which he couldn't eat any of the train food (Rod's a vegetarian, which doesn't help, but anyway) he arrived at a cheap, dark 'n' shabby hotel in Irkutsk where he'd made a reservation. But it seemed there was a mix-up and they didn't have a room for him, he didn't speak much Russian, they spoke no English and he was hallucinating with exhaustion and hunger and facing a night on the snowy streets in the Middle Of Bastard Nowhere.

When suddenly, an sound of an unmistakably American voice glided over his shoulder "Is there a problem here? Can I help at all?". Rod really thought his mind had gone when he turned round and saw that it was... Richard Gere, who was visiting on some dalai lama-based business. "That was a surprise", said Rod.
( fred zeppelin II: Electric Boogaloo, Thu 4 Apr 2013, 17:16, 3 replies)

My eldest was 5 and had hiccups
He was a bit distressed that they wouldn't stop.

"Dad, how do you make hiccups go away?"
"Well," I said, calmly, "there are lots of ways, but sometimes a surprise can stop them."
"OK then, surprise me!"
"It doesn't work like that, " I continued, calmly, "You have to be not expecting it for it to work, otherwise it isn't a... " and then I yelled "SURPRISE!" at him at full volume.

He stopped. He went pale. He started to cry. Oh fuck, I overdid it a little. We had a hug.

"Sorry. That was a bit loud wasn't it?"
"*sniff*, yes Daddy"
"Hiccups have gone though, haven't they?"
( chthonic, Thu 4 Apr 2013, 16:57, 3 replies)

Hello! Aaaargh!
What's that tread 'pon the stair? Is it Mrs Flatfrog returning home? Let me welcome her affectionately by flinging the door wide just as she reaches it and shouting a fond 'Hello, sweetie!'

Oh. She screamed like I was Norman Bates and now she's crying hysterically. Not quite what I was aiming for.
( flatfrog Staring vacantly into space, Thu 4 Apr 2013, 16:50, Reply)

Dawn of the Dead
I hate horror films but my mate really wanted to see Dawn of the Dead when it came out (he's disabled and I go as his carer - not that he really needs one!).

Sat down on the back row with my litre of Pepsi and a bag of Revels ready to endure my least favourite film genre.

First scary bit? Fucking Revels went everywhere. Showered about 10 people sat in front of us.

Never. Lived. It. Down.
( Blackdogmanguitar is out with Fat Larry's Jazz Band on, Thu 4 Apr 2013, 16:42, 3 replies)

the talking couch
it's amazing the fun you can have hiding behind a couch, especially if there are children around who are young enough to believe that the couch is talking to them. a good trick is to wait until said child sits down, then say "ouch! stop sitting on me!"
simple, but the looks of surprise and confusion on those little faces always makes me smile.
i'm a terrible auntie :)
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Thu 4 Apr 2013, 16:11, 2 replies)

( BraynDedd Natasha Kaplinsky's labia majora, Thu 4 Apr 2013, 15:05, 13 replies)

I am a Higher Education IT Lecturer
Probably started with too much information there but anyway. I have several stories of surprise.

The most noteable was a few years ago, with a slightly unruly second year class who will be called Group Twats for this story. Group Twats had several male members who thought they were about the funniest people on the planet, as teenagers do.

During an 11am-12pm session I had to leave the classroom to discuss a rather sensitive subject with another member of Group Twats, at about 11:55ami returned to the classroom and approached my desk from the rear where I could see the back of my laptop and papers on my desk etc, I closed the lid of my laptop from behind without seeing the screen and dismissed the class for lunch. Returned to the staff room, docked my laptop left it locked while I went for a walk and to get some lunch.

I return to the staff room now occupied with about 3 males 5 females, start to tuck into my favourite chicken and bacon Dagwood.

I proceed to unlock my laptop and am confronted, to my horror of a picture of a man giving himself the most intense blowjob on a Wikipedia page, I nearly chocked, I attempted to remove this quickly from the screen, however it was not quick enough for at least 3 people in the office to see what's on my screen. Needless to say I was surprised.

I also took great pleasure in making the life of Group Twats hell until they left.

That is all.
( spanishfly is so fucking sexy people impersonate him, Thu 4 Apr 2013, 14:57, 4 replies)

Something about a 2 metre-square exhaust port cover, or something.

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 4 Apr 2013, 14:51, 2 replies)

When I were a lad
It was my eighteenth birthday and I had arranged to go for a curry to celebrate with some friends (even the under-18s can drink if it's bring your own booze...) so I invited a small group of about 10 people, booked a table for one Friday night, and thought little of it.

When I turned up at the restaurant that evening, there was another table, on the opposite side of the room, with 4 girls from school sat on it. Despite the ringleader of this little coterie having a face like thunder, I wandered over and said hi and asked them if they'd come for a night out.

'Well we've come to wish you a happy birthday. Not that you could be bothered to invite us. But never mind. Happy Birthday!'

Oh - I'm very sorry. Would you like to come and join us. Won't be a problem to arrange, etc.

'No. We know when we're not wanted' (Er. Are you sure?)

So I went and sat back down with my mates and had a nice curry and a few beers with these girls sitting opposite and glaring at us all the time.

Weirdest things about it were that: 1) I'd barely even spoken to them before, and 2) they apparently did this sort of thing regularly if they weren't invited to stuff.

I just don't for the life of me understand why you'd make a point of turning up at things you weren't invited to and then purposefully not enjoying yourself just so everyone knows you're having a miserable time. Teenagers...
(SnowyTheWereRabbit the Leporid from Hell, Thu 4 Apr 2013, 14:31, 3 replies)

alright

(woocfot friends with Sacha Distel, Thu 4 Apr 2013, 14:27, 2 replies)

Screamers
Just thought of this. Me and my friend used to search for internet screamers, usually found on sites like AlbinoBlackSheep, or the old Wimp.com, before it turned to utter shit. This was way back around 2001-2005. These aren't the surprises I'll be going on about, but some particularly good ones we found were 'Colour Blind Test', the 'K-Fee Zombie Ad', 'What's Wrong With This Picture?', and the Scary Maze Game.

Anyway, I'll go on about the first time I found a screamer; unintentionally. I was around 5 or 6 years old, on my sister's computer upstairs, alone, in the dark. The glow of the screen probably illuminating my face, stuck in a trance like state, exploring the internet and it's wonders. I found myself on Wimp.com, looking at various flash games and videos. I found one I hadn't seen before: Where's Waldo?

Like a fucking idiot, I clicked on it. I had NO idea it was a screamer, had the sound turned all the way up, crouched over trying to get a better, closer look at the screen. I was like a cow willingly going to the slaughter; bemused look on my face, mouth agape in a grin, looking around with child like wonder. The aim of the game was to find Waldo in the picture. I went right up to the screen, trying to find Waldo, but he was nowhere to be found! Bare in mind, I had no idea what screamers were (or that they existed) at this point in time.

After a minute, sat in the dark in silence, I began to feel a little creeped out; an eerie chill passing over me. That's when the face of the devil from the Excorcist popped up on the screen, accompanied by a loud fucking scream. Needless to say I was fucking surprised. So surprised in fact, that I fled downstairs, crying my eyes out, screaming for my Dad. I refused to go back upstairs. I eventually did, gripping my toy lightsaber, ready for whatever lurked in the dark, sniffling and near-hyperventilating. I must've looked a right twat.

And so began my love for screamers...
(Sick Boy likes to swear a lot, Thu 4 Apr 2013, 14:05, 4 replies)

Silly Dave
Dave wasn't the brightest of chaps, so you can imagine my surprise one day when, during lunch-time at work, I saw him actually reading a paperback.

I managed to time it just right to catch him look shocked and physically jump in his chair.

Looking up he explained "It was a frightening bit".
(Kliper Filllets Getting noticed by twats on the internet since, Thu 4 Apr 2013, 13:20, Reply)

Sports Hall Surprise
As a weakling nerd, I fucking hated PE/games lessons. They were humiliating, embarrassing, and just fucking tedious. I'd either give into peer pressure and play football (after being picked last or next-to-last), ending with me making a fool of myself by either: a) fucking up and missing the ball to cries of 'FUCKING TACKLE HIM, SICK BOY!' or 'YOU CUNT! GET IN THE GAME!', or b) falling over like a prize spack and scraping my knee on the gravel, or just leave my PE kit at home and then stand around doing nothing.

Towards the end of Year 11, me and a few others would bring in PE kit, but opt to stay in the Sports Hall and play tennis or basketball, as it was better than going out and getting decked to the floor by a gym loving, musclebrained, colliflower eared fuckstack in rugby. The group consisted of me, some of my friends, an obese pyromaniac by the name of Shaun, and Barry (name changed for the sake of the specimen I'm about to describe).

Barry, for lack of a better description, was a red faced, failure at life that fucking STUNK of burning wood/dead bodies. He seldom talked, and when he did it was under a low mumble of words, and a short little guttural laugh at the end of each sentence, followed by a sniff of the nose, which he was prone to doing often. He wasn't the most popular chap. As you can imagine, this kid was one birthmark away from committing suicide, or mass murder.

Anyway, one day we were all playing tennis; me feigning interest and my friend Nathan getting quite competitive in the heat of the game, when all of a sudden, who should burst through the net in a random outburst of flailing anger, desperately trying to be funny? Barry of course.

So, we lock him in the cupboard at the back of the sports hall. He goes in willingly, with that short burst of guttural laughter, sniffing and all. We close the doors to the cupboard, block it with all the equipment we can find (a lot), and he starts getting annoyed. He pushes up against the door, tries to open it, starts threatening us. The buzzer goes: it's the end of the lesson. We start leaving, and see the PE teacher (think stereotypical gym teacher) moving towards the cupboard. We stop and wait to see what happens. He starts shifting the equipment out of the way, sighing about 'fucking kids' (which he's done much of I bet), and then goes to open the cupboard.

Barry bolts out, screaming 'ARRRRGH' in his mumbled tone, and shoves past the teacher; expecting it to be one of us. The teacher almost has a heart attack, and Barry shits himself too as soon as he notices. To be fair, Barry didn't grass on us, and the teacher let him off.
(Sick Boy likes to swear a lot, Thu 4 Apr 2013, 13:20, Reply)

Scarred for life
I was at childs birthday party for some relative of an ex girlfriend , you know the affair cake, jelly, bouncy castle. Well it was in this massive house with quite a few original features left in grand doorways oak floorboards and a really nice but decommissioned fireplace. Well the birthday boy ( a runty little spoilt sod who i shall call Malcom) had been eating his cake under the unlit fireplace and had somehow managed to untie his birthday balloon from his wrist and let it float up the chimney getting stuck about nine feet up.

I being the great guy i obviously am decided to bring the Steve Mcqueen-esk balloon back into the bawling Malcoms arms using nought but a long broom, a maglite and a tall stool.
After serveral minutes of poking around all the children including the now placated Malcom got bored and buggered off to play something.
I gave the brush a final lunge up the chimney to try and at least get behind the balloon in doing so i managed to pop it and dislodge lots of old newspapers, shed loads of dust and two dead rats right into my face.
That was quite a suprise for me and quite a good laugh for everyone else, I'm just thankful i wear glasses.
(shake'n'bake Tally Ho, Biatch!, Thu 4 Apr 2013, 13:08, 2 replies)

Unconscious surprise
I have a mate (honest) who, despite being in his 40s, loves to scare the bejesus out of people by jumping out of hiding places when they least expect it. His name's Lee.

On one occasion, the rest of the family (wife and two kids) were out, and he heard the car pulling into the drive. Giggling to himself, he decided to hide in a storage cupboard opposite the entrance to the lounge and to see just how badly he could make them shit themselves.

They came in, put the shopping away, wandered round the house etc, while Lee stayed concealed, waiting for the perfect moment once they had all settled down. This they eventually did, after about 20 minutes or so, and they settled down on the sofa to watch a bit of telly.

Lee's plan was to leap out of the cupboard, taking a giant stride or two, leaping into the middle of the lounge while roaring at the top of his voice. Not imaginative, but likely to be effective. Unfortunately, in the 'giant stride' phase of the plan, Lee neglected to factor in his 6 foot 4 inch height. As he embarked upon his leap into the lounge, he smashed his head on the underside of the door frame, knocking himself unconscious before he even had the chance to roar.

Thus his family were confronted with the sight of their husband/father hurtling noiselessly into the middle of the lounge, collapsing as he went, and smashing through the coffee table.

Went well.
(Bappage, Thu 4 Apr 2013, 13:07, 9 replies)

I thought
it was just a fart.
(username failed moderation, Thu 4 Apr 2013, 12:57, Reply)

Not a patch on Enzyme's, but at university one of the girls in our shared house was not a student, and worked nights.
As such, it was always a bit weird encountering her at 7 or 8 in the morning, when she'd be cooking some chili and pouring herself a glass of wine for her "evening" meal.

One day I'd decided to skip lectures and wank instead, or similar - whatever the reason, I was left alone in the house that morning.

I heard her key in the door, and thought of a lovely surprise for her.

"Hellooo!" she called, as usual.

The silence that greeted her was unsurprising, and thus she made her way down the hallway, her heels clicking.

Hung up her coat.

Bag onto the bannister.

Walked into the kitchen.

Where, from the understairs cupboard, I jumped out, as my lovely surprise, screaming "RAAAARRRRRR!"

She smashed me 'round the face and ran upstairs to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her, where I found her sobbing heavily; she slapped me again, and refused my attempts to put a comforting arm around her.

Bitch. Crying is NOT winning.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 4 Apr 2013, 12:50, 4 replies)

I was surprised to see someone about my bins.

( Slippery Mick ‏, Thu 4 Apr 2013, 12:34, 2 replies)

Since it's over five years since its last outing,
and notwithstanding that I'm not entirely happy with the use of the word "Pinteresque", I suppose I could pea this (and, after all, FHM did see fit to plagiarise me in 2009)...

My paternal grandparents used to live - when they lived at all, that is - in a house with a large garden. And when I say "large", I mean "measured in acres" kind of large. It was ace; there were lots of rocky bits, coppices, paths through bushes and so on - everything a child could need for hours of adventure.

An obvious trope was to hide behind a bush or rock, wait for someone to come past, and yell "BOO!" at them. One day, that's exactly what I did to my grandfather.

My grandfather, I knew, had a slightly weak heart. I didn't take this into account. I was young.

I could see him coming; I crouched in a clump of bracken. Closer... closer... closer...



"BOO!"

My grandfather looked startled for a moment - but only for a moment. He fell. He stayed fallen.
"Oh, Jesus H Macy; I've fucking killed Grandad," I would have thought had I not been only 9. "Oh, bother, I've flipping well killed Grandad," is what I probably did think.

Not knowing what else to do, I simply looked at his very still body for what looked like hours but can only have been seconds.
"Grandad?" I ventured. "Are you all right? Can you hear me? Grandad?"

Nothing.

More nothing.

Pinteresque nothing.





















"BOO!" he yelled.

I was the one who had a heart attack that day.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Thu 4 Apr 2013, 12:33, Reply)

fsdfsdfsdfsdf
lol
(King Zog of Albania lives in Kensington, Thu 4 Apr 2013, 12:26, Reply)

It was only meant to be a joke.
A lovely, sexy joke.

That's all.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 4 Apr 2013, 12:21, 1 reply)

(^(^;;^)^) BOO!
NOW GIVE US YOUR CURDS 'N' WHEY BITCH!
(^(^;;^)^)
GO TEAM SPIDERS!
( stuj (^(^;;^)^) GO TEAM SPIDERS!(^(^;;^)^), Thu 4 Apr 2013, 12:20, Reply)

I WAS SURPRISED TO SEE QOTW IS STILL GOING !!!!! HAHAHAAHAAhahhahhhahaaaa

( Light In Chains maker of the ikea sofa, Thu 4 Apr 2013, 12:16, 2 replies)

I once dressed up as an overweight woman, but the costume head exploded.

( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Thu 4 Apr 2013, 12:15, 2 replies)

Surprise!

( Pig Bodine., Thu 4 Apr 2013, 12:12, Reply)