Dear 100 Hour Board,
Did you experience any April Fools Day pranks this year? Do you have any pranks that you're particularly proud of that you've done in the past, or any memorable pranks that were done on you?
TELL ME ALL THE PRANK STORIES PLEASE. (Yes I've read the archives.)
As a freshman, I snuck into a Helaman Hall that wasn't mine (I lived in a crappy basement somewhere south of campus) and put tape over the faucets so they'd spray whoever turned them on. Imagine my fiendish delight when I discovered they'd repeatedly blasted my friend-girl's boyfriend--who was nice, and kind, and whom I therefore resented greatly--as he, a hardworking custodian, sought to clean up the continual mess that was Helaman Halls. I'm not sorry, Lewis. You were too good for this world. Someone had to wash you out.
Friend-Girl and her other roommate, who I'll name Shaniqua, because that absolutely isn't her name--
Well, that April Fools' day I'd also concocted another contraption, a sort of poorly-engineered ziploc-bag-and-duct-tape-and-string booby trap mechanism wherein I taped a bag of water to the ceiling outside Friend-Girl's Wyview apartment and attached the other side to her doorhandle in the hope it'd swing in and wreak some aqueous havoc in the chill morning.
Of course, in order to set the infernal device I had to wait for everyone to go inside the apartment at night, after midnight. This went horribly wrong when their roommate and roommate's boyfriend relocated from inside to the landing after the stroke of twelve and made out for an hour.
Determined to set my trap, I tried to ignore them best I could and waited at a distance, shivering in my free t-shirt and shorts, my only defenses against the unseasonable thirties cold a fluffy blue football wig I'd won... and the fires of my rage, stoked that something as stupid as a makeout session could foil my carefully strung plans.
One hour later, finally, they'd entered the "Goodnight Kiss" phase of Operation Makeout and adjourned until 8 AM, presumably. An hour more of struggling with string, tape, plastic, and dirty ceilings, and my creation was complete. Finally, finally I could walk the half-hour home, and I'd discover at social dance the next day--
"Your little water-bag thing," said my friend Shaniqua, WHO IS ACTUALLY ALTA AND ANATHEMA'S OLDER SISTER NOW I THINK OF IT, "It didn't work."
And thusly that day I did dance the Foxstep of Defeat. I'd played myself.
--Ardilla Feroz, doer of many other pranks
P.S. In high school, I got way, way into pranking people on a high school choir trip. The flawed methods and desired outcomes were meticulously and documented in this poorly-named and mediocre article I wrote in the nascent days of Wikihow called "How to Prank Large Groups of People," which has now been viewed... 36,897 times? It's not even a good article, even after some rando illustrated it, and it depresses me it will likely be the most read thing I ever write, for it certainly has been so far. I'd much prefer to be known as the unofficial biographer of legendary animal slayer Monte L. Bean.
There was this really cool prank I saw, and I actually got a video of it! It's hard to explain, so you should just watch it. Enjoy.
Dear Goldie Rose,
Vienna moved all of her clothes, shoes, etc. from her side of the closet to mine and vice versa. It was quite impressive.
-Frère Rubik, briefly poking out from the rock he's been hiding behind
Dear Goldie ~
These days I've become SUPER BORING and don't prank anyone. Probably because Yellow is super boring in this area and doesn't see the joy in pranking (It's probably his only fault, though. Every time he wakes up in the middle of the night with kids, I forgive him). I do have some neighbors that keep talking about starting a prank war, so maybe sometime I'll just start it for them. I would use this question as the catalyst for that, but I'm going to Moab this week and won't be near them. SIGH.
But just in case you missed it in the archives, this one links to many of my pranks, including my favorite and most epic—the one behind my nym: Board Question #39458
~ Dragon Lady
This year, on a whim at about 6:00am on the morning of April 1st, I was eating breakfast and decided to prank a friend of mine who lives about 2000 miles away. I posted an ad on Craigslist using his phone number advertising free live chickens. In fact, you know what? Instead of explaining it, here's a screenshot of the ad I posted.
He spent a week trying to figure out why he was getting random chicken-cross-the-road jokes followed up by some form of the question "So, do I get them?" before the ad got taken down and I told him what was up. 10/10 would recommend for a low-key prank with decent return.
The Man with a Mustache
Dear Rosie Gold,
My inclinations do not lean, generally, in a prankwardly direction, for I suffer from a deathly fear of inconveniencing people, and also I lost my sense of humor in a laughing accident at the age of seven. But it just so happens that once in my life I got nudged into participating in what might have been the Best Prank Ever. In the olden days (like 2010 or so), a glitch occurred in the vast web of late capitalist democracy that allowed anybody who wanted to, without application or justification of any kind, to order up to five hundred flat-rate shipping boxes from the US Postal Service for free.
(Somebody must have since decided that that scheme was a waste of taxpayer dollars, because as far as I can tell, it's no longer an option.)
Well, of course, who would pass up an opportunity like that? The boxes arrived one afternoon in bundles of twenty-five, the poor post office worker hauling two at a time down the stairs into our apartment and depositing them into our living room. And that's where they stayed, because not for a moment before clicking the "complete your order" button did it occur to us to plan what we were going to do with our newfound cardboard wealth once it came to our door.
We tossed around different ideas until one roommate landed on the jackpot: we would fill someone's apartment with them. My memory of our relationship with Apartment 12 is a little hazy (did one of us have a crush on one of them? was it a sort of friendly rivalry? the details are lost to history), but in the next couple of days, one of my roommates managed to slip one of their apartment keys off a ring without anyone noticing. Around two in the morning, we hauled our five hundred boxes up the stairs to the complex lounge, which was just outside Apartment 12's front door, and began assembling them.
I had to delve into the netherworld of ancient Facebook posts to find this picture. But look how beautiful all those boxes are.
As soon as we'd turned our flat flat-rate boxes into 3-D flat-rate boxes, we unlocked Apartment 12's door, crept stealthily inside, and started stacking them in the hallway that connected the back area of the apartment to the front rooms, floor to ceiling, blocking their way out of their bedrooms, meaning that...
...wait for it...
we boxed them in.
[Whoops, sorry, my lame puns are showing.]
We were mildly disappointed to find that five hundred boxes, which sounds like it ought to be enough to fill all of time and space, amounts to approximately the size of a large-ish bathroom. But our spirits were considerably revived when all of Apartment 12 arrived half an hour late to sacrament meeting the next day; it was fast Sunday, and none of them had tried to emerge from the bed/bath area until it was time to leave for church, and the process of extricating themselves had taken wonderfully longer than we could have imagined.
The best part of all of this was that because the boxes ended up in their house, they were responsible for figuring out how to get rid of them.
My wife is fairly gullible, so it is easy for me to prank her (even on April Fool's day). Her youngest brother is serving a mission and I looked at my phone for a few minutes and then I sat up in bed and said, "Have you read your brother's email?" She looked at me, concerned, and said, "No, why?" I responded, "He said he's too homesick and has asked the mission president to help him get a flight home!"
You should have seen the look on her face!
-Sunday Night Banter