(The third in a series of ‘Tame, Yet Not suitable for “Jeopardy!”‘ stories.)
I have never been good at practical jokes, largely because I am truly awful at keeping a straight face and I can’t lie to save my life (possibly literally*). I’m also generally not a malicious person. Generally.
In grade 4, my friend Rachel, who came from prankier stock, and reads this very blog (and comments) in between taking care of her delightful baby twin girls, tried to change this by orchestrating three pranks.
- We made fake chalk to try to fool our teacher. This involved moulding clay into, well, chalk-shaped pieces, letting them dry, and then painting them white. They looked awful. I am still unskilled in clayworks, so with klutzy nine-year-old fingers, there was no hope of doing an excellent job, even though Rachel was, even then, a skilled craftster. When we made the switch before class, I got cold feet. I thought we’d be suspended, even though Mme C. was basically the nicest teacher in history and neither of us had ever been in trouble before. Mme C. noticed the ruse right away of course, because blackboard chalk is not generally lumpen with brown bits shining through the white. We did not get in trouble.
- We also, though maybe this was just Rachel’s doing, labelled a bag of candy coated nuts as ‘mouse turds’ and put them in someone’s school bag. A boy we liked? I can’t remember. But whomever we targeted was not fooled. That having been said, she got meaner later and helped orchestrating a trick involving rodent turds. No, really. She’s nice now. And was most of the time then. But, y’know, 9-13-year-old girls are about the most evil creatures on Earth. And no one got hurt.
- This was the only non-April Fool’s themed thing we did, and just because we were jerky older sisters, and it was simple: We stole all of Rachel’s sister’s underwear and pinned (or was it stapled?) every pair to the bulletin board in her room. She was not impressed. Really not impressed. We did get in (some) trouble, but it was probably the only successful prank we pulled. Possibly ever. Y’know, if the goal was to make someone hate us.
So, yes, let’s hope I never end up working on an Ocean’s sequel (and not just because it would be a terrible film) because I’d never be able to get revenge on George Clooney. (I don’t know how anyone manages it, really. I’d just spend all my time thinking about his dreamy feathered hair on ‘Facts of Life’.)
This is the funniest thing I read on the internet last week. You’re welcome.
*Even if I figure out how to lie convincing, my tardiness has convinced me that the lyric ‘When the revolution takes place, I’ll be late, and I’ll be shot as a traitor’ might come true.