Stupidity strikes at about 4 a.m., I've found. Maybe somewhere in thecircadian rhythms of the human body lies some recessive timeframe where every idea falls flat on its face. I don't know, there's always time for research.
Take for example me and my friend Nate. About two weeks ago, at 4 a.m. Nate and I found the zeitgeist to pull a prank. And not just any prank. Our muse was the second floor bathroom of the Wood House. You see, for sometime, our floor bathroom has been absent of both toilet paper and soap.
But these washroom worries had been exclusive to the men of the house. And so Nate and I plotted a scheme to somehow better our situation. Inspiration struck when Nate suggested we switch the male/female name plates on the doors. We met our opposition in four, two inch long, zinc-coated, steel, clockwise-turning screws. Quickly we barged into a sleeping friend's room and stole a toolbox that must look like God's. The particular screws required a square Allen wrench and af ter rifling through the toolbox, we had no success. Our lack of the appropriate tools led our plans to degenerate into silly vandalism. Suggestions like, "hey, let's open the housing for the fire extinguisher," became all too common.
Which leads to our first lesson in prank planning: be prepared. To be successful in planning pranks, one must be aware of the situation. The creativity and ingenuity of the American people is well documented, but all the resourcefulness in the world can't substitute for sound planning and an accurate preparation. If Nate and I had gathered the essential tools, the hands of the Wood House males might not be hazardous bacteria stores (I've since bought soap, ladies). Strike 1.
It's important to note that Nate is a product of boarding school, and so has been privy to a host of various pranks. Stealing towels, launching water balloons, breaking into rooms, fiddling with circuit breakers, releasing mice into closed quarters; all jewels in Nate's prank crown.
His coup de grace of prankdom occurred his junior year of high school. With rolls of tape and cans of shaving cream Nate created a veritable barricade in front of his roommate's door. The trap was set for the mark to burst through his door, and suffer from his foamiest shave ever. The irony of it all, was the mark was actually outside of the room at the time: a slight oversight. Lesson 2: Know your enemy.
Me and Nate tried this trick again on a Wood House member. The trick backfired unbelievably when all we had to use were half a roll of packaging tape and a free can of Edge Pro Shave Gel. Not only did the mark not walk through the poorly, thrown together contraption, but took the gel and attacked me thoroughly. Strike 2. Lesson 3: Don't pull a prank half-assed.
"Think about it Nate. Which two people can stand each other the least?" I asked my now partner in crime. The answer was fresh on both of our minds. Our final plan was to switch every article of clothing and furniture of these two people, especially hilarious because one lived in Wolman, the other in AMR I. We had a card key to Wolman all lined up, two lookouts for both locations, and an intersecting timeframe to do the deed.
But at the end of it all, we figured carrying computer equipment through Wolman and five lanes of traffic might draw undesired attention. Lesson 4: Keep the scope small. Strike 3, we're out.
Realizing that I absolutely sucked at playing pranks, I interviewed my dorm mates about any great stories. And I close this article with a gem. My anonymous female friend recites: "I was sleeping at my aunt's house overnight, and I was the first to fall asleep. And I sleep hard. During the night, my cousin's stole all my underwear, put them in plastic bags full of water, and froze them. The funny thing was, they took the pair I was wearing at the time. I never woke up.
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