Home Forums Hunting & Shooting Hunter's Campfire Most Evil Practical joke you ever did

Above YOUR pay grade, Troll,....WELL above.

You're a regular "Local" here, or like to PLAY at that,....

ask around,....maybe somebody will get you up to speed on that .

....not my department, at this time, Poachy,....you just keep laffin'

GTC

My sister in law use to bring her camera to all the family functions and would leave it lay around. I once took her camera and proceeded to take close up pictures of dogs butts. I,m talking tails raised, full brown eye. Used up about 1/2 a roll of film. About a week later, she took the roll of film to a 1hr Photo. When she picked the pictures up a little later, She wondered why the guy looked at her funny. She never went back to that photo shop again. Did the same thing to her again about 6 months later at a horse show only this time was a combo of horse butts and peckers.

I started laughing when I read that thinking back to a camera incident like that.

My first wife was a racy thing, anything went. My sister who was always taking pictures at family events left her camera laying and my wife brought it to me and said we should take a picture of something really outrageous. I said how about my johnson and she laughed and said perfect.

So my wife is trying to get the closest focus possible which was about a foot and a half away, she snaps a full frame pic of my dik.

So it's like two months later when we see my sister and we are trying to pump her about if she got any weird pictures on her camera. She said yeah, she took some to my brother in law and asked him if he knew what the pictures were, he said yes, someone took a picture of their dic, my sister wanted to know why it was so big which pissed her husband off. We never copped to it.

That sounds like East Texas alright!

Some absolutely great stories put out here. I'm still laughing about some of them. This one doesn't exactly qualify as a practical joke. More like attempted murder. But since it is more than fifty five years ago here is what happened.

Our little old county school got this student teacher from Sam Houston State who came to practice his teaching on us. Supposed to be a six weeks stint. Name was Blayloc. We called him baby doll Blayloc. He was a real pretty boy and got off on the wrong foot with all us boys right off the bat.

All the girls were ga-ga over a college man and that didn't suit us one bit. Then he persisted in mis pronouncing some of our first names even after being corrected. Like giving Cecil the feminine pronuncion. And Wendel he pronounced with two syllables heavy accent on the last.

Besides that he was easy and sweet on the girls and tried to be a hard ass on us country boys. We took it as our job to run him off. The usual course of dead snakes, gophers, road kill of various sorts showing up in his desk or jacket pocket didn't phase him. Various kinds and amounts of dung in his car had no effect. He seemed oblivious to our almost blatent rebellion and kept right on keeping on. He did complain to the Mr Price the principal and we got "talked too" pretty stern about it. Thirty years later I found out Glenn Price didn't like Baby Doll either, though he was queer. I digress.

After two weeks of our harrassment Baby Doll was still giving us fits and we were frustrated as hell. We cooked up the scheme to either kill or conqurer.

Upstairs was the library where we boys had a study period right after lunch. Girls had homemaking. Baby Doll was the one who kept study hall. He had survived twangers and spit wads and lye in his chair and so on so far.
The door was half paned glass with a brass doorknob. Beside the door was an oasis water cooler. In front of the door was a coconut fiber foot wiping mat.

We took an extension cord and cut the end off and split it. We wired one end to the door knob and the other to the floor mat. Soaked the mat with water. Then we waited. We heard Baby Doll coming up the stairs and we all took our places. Wendel was sitting where he could look out the door.
As soon as Wendel nodded I pluged the end of the extension cord into the wall outlet around the corner.

We all heard him, sort of a loud high pitched Gaaaahhhh sound and we heard the door shakeing like a dog pooping pine cones. Wendel swore to God that smoke came out of Baby Dolls ears.

Unplugged the extension cord. We all started running around hollering and making noise. The Superintendent came running out of his office across the hall. All incriminating evidence was dumped down a vent shaft.

Baby Doll had collapsed on the floor and was flopping around like a beached fish kind of gagging and twiching. Every body is hollering what happened, whats wrong and stuff like that. The Supe finally got Baby Doll to his feet and helped him into the office where the sick room was.

After long investigation, at least an hour, it was decided that the oasis water cooler had somehow shorted out and that was what got Baby Doll. He was sent home for the rest of the day.

Aftermath:

The next morning Baby Doll did'nt show up for class. Mr Price and the Supe went to the garage apartment he was staying in and what do you know. He had left in the night. Packed up bag and baggage and skedaddled.
Guess it finally got through to him that the next attempt to run him off might be fatal. Bet he also learned not to screw with old country boys.

The principal of a certain Montana school was so unfailingly obnoxious that the town fathers ordered him to leave. He refused, and the town fathers just gave-up in frustration.

My buddy's younger brothers assumed the mission. Their first tactic was to replace the gasoline in the sediment bowl of his new Ford V8 station wagon with Diesel starter fluid.

When he pushed the starter buttton, the heads went through the hood.

"He left town, then," one of the boys griped in bitter disgust and disappointment. They had other little degreetings planned for him, which they'd be unable to use. The ultimate "wet blanket" or "party-pooper!"

"Joke?" No way! As serious as a "suicide bombing" on Pennsylvania Avenue!

I was 14, it was summer and my parents ran a business from a large shop behind our house. The neighbors across the street had 7 kids and the boys were thieving tools, gas, anything not nailed down from my parents.
One of the boys , the worst offender, had just bought a minty, 72 Nova SS with a 350. I was fed up with their thievery and plotted revenge after I got an Azz whippin' for one of the tool thefts. I took an old 5 gal Smith Oil can and spray painted it red. Put about 2 1/2 Gallons of gas in it from our gas pump at the shop and added a 5 lb bag of sugar from my mothers kitchen.

When evening came I mowed our front yard with the new can conspicuously placed in full view of my neighbors directly across the street. When I finished I left the can.

The next morning I heard my father sternly call out my name. I jumped from bed and he told me how I left the gas can out and it was now stolen. I couldn't help but bust out laughing as my father looked on slightly bewildered. After explaining what I'd done he too saw the humour.

Over the next couple weeks, the valves burned out my neighbors the Nova SS and he was afoot for months. As a bonus, it got his sisters Cougar.

A few years back, my niece took her dad's cell phone and typed in the words: LOW BATTERY, in place of what his normal message was. Took him two weeks to figure out his battery was never low........

When I was about 17, my friends and I were hanging out at one of our houses. The friend's (whose house it was) sister and her friend were there also who were about 2 years younger than us. We (the guys only) left to go get a movie. While were were gone the sister called us up and said there were noises at the house and that they were scared.

When we got back to the house we decided we would scare them. So I put on a wig (Which I'm not sure why we had, I believe it was around Halloween time) and put my camo hoodie over my head zipped tight so that all you could see of my face was my nose, eyes and bushy hair. We went to the shed and grabbed an axe.

I climbed through the sister's bedroom window. While doing this, they heard a noise (me) and moved from the family room to the kitchen. They had 911 dialed on their cell phones but not "sent" and knives in their hands. I stepped out into the hallway with the axe raised above my head and started screaming "COME HERE!"

Those two started running in place like you would see in a cartoon (while screaming bloody murder). They dropped the cell phones and knives and took off out the door with me in hot pursuit.

They hurdled over the 3 foot chain fence and then collapsed on the neighbor's lawn while crying. I felt bad at this point and said "It's me, C86man3". They cried for about 10 minutes and all of us guys were too - because we were laughing. I felt kind of bad, but given the choice again, I would probably do it again. Although, there were firearms in that house, so I guess I got lucky they didn't get a hold of one of those.

I stuck a blonde wig on my bald head, peeked around the edge of the door where Carol Anne was teaching her Sunday School class, and just grinned at her.

She said later that "that person" looked familiar and was obviously somebody whom she ought to recognize, but she had absolutely no clue who it was.

just pulled a good one today. one of my coworkers sent an email to me saying something about another coworker.
I sent a reply saying did you mean for that to go out to the entire company. They about had a coronary.

At the school I teach at, I was known for owning a rattlesnake that lived in my converted aquarium.

One day I brought an envelope to school and casually dropped it on the staff room table saying that my snake was a female - and had laid eggs.

One of my co-workers was curious and picked up the envelope.

In it were some buttons between bent pieces of wire wound up with twisted elastic bands.

As soon as the co-worker opened the envelope to have a peak at the eggs - all of the buttons inside the envelope started to spin and buzzed loudly.

With a hollar - the teacher who had the envelope pushed away from the table as he the envelope back on the table. His chair broke from the violence of his push-off backwards. Snot and coffee poured from his nose. His coffee flew out of his mug and landed on another co-workers crotch - he screamed and jumped up. Everyone jumped back from the table and the buzzing envelope. It was pandemonium.

It was the best practical joke I had ever pulled - before - or ever since.

Where I grew up, folks, black and white, helped each other. That's just the way it was. Now I never was superstitious, but I know many black folks that are. Having said that as graciously as I can, I did this to a fellow.

This black guy and I both worked nights and other than the odd hours, it didnt bother me. However, the black guy didnt like it one bit. He was afraid of the dark, so every opportunity I got, I played jokes on him. I should also add that most nights, I picked him up and drove to work, then would take him home, after work.

I had bought an old black stationwagon, with 3 rows of seats, that had stains on the headliner, because the roof leaked. The first night I picked him up in the wagon, I told him it was an old hearse. That made him nervous, but he rode to work and back, and everything was ok. The next night, a Friday, I had my brother hide behind the 3rd row of seats. I picked up the black guy and headed to work. As I drove, I started talking about the old hearse, wondering how many dead people it had hauled, I even told him the stains on the headliner were blood. Needless to say, he believed it.

Now my brother, had slipped over the 2nd row of seats, and was right behind the fellow. As the guy was looking up at the stained headliner, with me still pointing out more blood stains, my brother put a hand on each of his shoulders!

Well, that done it! He screamed, opened the door, and jumped out, and us doing about 35 mph, on a dirt road. I just knew he was dead!

I slammed on the brakes, jumped out, and ran back to where I thought he would be... no sign of him!

My brother got there about that time, said, "look", and he pointed out in a field.

There was my working buddy, in the moonlight, hauling it across a cotton field. We yelled for him to stop, but I think that only made him go faster!

I had to work by myself that night, liked to have killed me, but I guess I earned it!

one of my buddies in school had an obnoxious frat brother and when this kid showed up sh**faced one night and passed out they propped him up on the couch so he was on his stomach laid over the back of the couch. They smeared his ass crack with peanut butter, turned the house dog loose on him and filmed it all.

Talk about the hick from French Lick. Bird had nothin' on this boy...

oh chitt

Once tied a piece of monofilament line around the head of a dead Cottonmouth, and tied the other end to the inside door handle of my friends pickup truck. Then stretched the snake out on the bench seat, and when he opened the door he almost %$$# his pants; it was hilarious

My grandfather used to have a painted plaster cast of a coiled rattler. You'd have to take a long look at a real one beside it to tell which one was fake.

I borrowed it for a week of fun at Auburn.

� I put it in the steel drawer of my room mate's dresser in our third-floor room.

� I set it on the floor behind the open door and asked visitors to close the door.

� I set it on the seat beside me (covered with a folded newspaper) on the foresters' field-trip bus. Got a lot o' guys with that one, to the rollicking appreciation of a growing audience.

Steathily poked a hole in the sidewall of a van tire, with my first-ever lock back pocket knife.

Long story short, a "night club" up the street from my usual hangout at a buddy's tavern, had two big punk bouncers that got in the habit of thumping small people that they had cause to evict from the premises. Not content to just drag 'em out and send 'em on their way, they often smacked them around pretty good. Outside, generally in a dark area of the lot, when no one else was around.

Had heard about it, witnessed it one night when I was leaving and knew the dimwitted little twerp they were slapping around. Knew the van belonged to the worst of the two, poked a hole in a front tire sidewall on my way by. Not much resistance in a sidewall radial, to a sharp point on a blade that stays locked.

Proved to be such a popular remedy, that a few weeks later all four tires on both bouncer's vehicles suffered similar fates on one night. IIRC correctly they picked the wrong guy (literally and figuratively) to blame it on one night and both got their clocks cleaned? Alas, I missed that part.

Oops. This was an Evil Practical Joke thread, not a "I don't get mad, I get even" thread. Sorry.



I gather up any open padlocks that moving-out tenants leave behind and keep them in my truck. Now and then someone will annoy me and find one of 'em locked onto something they own. Crap, that's still kinda nasty?

I'm a big fan of getting someone's address I don't like and ordering a bunch of gay and midget porn subscriptions to be sent to their house.