Home Forums Hunting & Shooting Hunter's Campfire Prank gift - ever give someone one ?

There's a reason we introduced pythons here in Floriduh.

Given out a couple good ones. Coworker thought he was "gettin savvy" in the outdoors. Gave him a package of dehydrated water. Brown package with white writing "mix with water until dissolved". He didn't get it. Second guy got an Obama bumper sticker, he didn't find it funny. Everyone else did.

all ...

First Christmas at my current place of employment, ca. 2006. Someone put together a white elephant gift exchange. I figured it would be gag gifts all the way. To my horror, I saw one nice gift after another unwrapped until my immediate supervisor's turn to choose a gift came up...and he chose the gift I left on the table. We still have and treasure a photo of him holding up his package of Preparation H.

A couple years ago the family decided to do the white elephant at my grandma's. I said it would be a bad idea because someone is gonna be pissed. I didn't participate but everyone else did. My cousin (7/8 lib) ended up with a unicorn coffee mug filled with lottery tickets. She was not impressed when she realized she was not $20k richer. Real turd in the punch bowl type of situation. I tried to tell them.

White elephant = dirty Santa?

Did he call you a Bass-turd ?

Gave sisters and mom gifts that got lots of laughter! Sis1 got a size 48DD bra, she is a member of the little bitty got the club. Sis 2 got a pair of condom ear rings, and mom got moose turd earings! Got the cowboy brother a pair of plaid polyester pants! It was called joke Christmas Eve! I got a hat with a point on top, brother said that way I could spin it on the point!

My wife's family did those stupid things. People got pissed every year. They finally gave up.

Gag gifts are such the norm for me that I can't think of any that stand out in particular.

The latest one was a niece's 29th birthday. She was having a bad time of it as it was the last one until the dreaded 30th. I gave her a card wishing her a happy thirtieth birthday and when she glared at me before launching in to a tirade I blamed her husband for steering me wrong. He is like me and was believable enough that she didn't know who to yell at.

It wasn't a gag gift but when my wife turned 50 I never said a word about it being her birthday. She headed off to work and fumed all day or so I heard. She called a couple times but I still acted as if it was just another day. While she was gone I hooked up a Happy Birthday sign that dropped down as the garage door opened, had an ice cream cake in the fridge, and had made reservations at her favorite local restaurant. Not really a gag gift but gagged her in the lead up.

A traditional story in our family came from some tough times. There was a winter when the root cellar froze, and frozen potatoes were on the menu almost daily for several months. (They don't cook well - thank God for venison- hang season and limit!)

My brother Kurt maybe told the story one too many times.

His Christmas stocking was stuffed with frozen potatoes the first year he and his wife were married.

Every year in March we have a "coyote weekend" at our camp. 2 years in a row one of our members who is a fat, lazy, arrogant slob did something stupid that I made sure to recognize him for at out annual shareholders meeting.
The first time he launched his ATV over a dirt pile and broke his leg. So, at the meeting I made a speech about it and presented him with a set of gift wrapped training wheels.
The following year he shot a hole in the ceiling, overhead door and roof of our pavilion when he half-azzed checked the chamber of his 223 and pulled the trigger to let off the spring pressure. So, at the meeting that year I made another speech and presented him with a gift wrapped a pair of reading glasses and a bore light.
He failed to see the humor that all the rest of us did.

We also have a member who lives in Wyoming but was raised in our town. Every year he comes back for the first week of deer season. He pranks someone before he leaves camp just about every year. One year his victim was one of our senior members named Doug. Doug was not to be outdone. A bear had gorged itself on apples and took a big dump right by our powerhouse. It looked like a turd shaped pile of apple sauce. Doug scooped up the frozen poop and put it between 2 slices of bread and mailed it to our friend Wyoming. Never mess with old guys.

I had to laugh at the bobcat in a suitcase. We had heard about it and actually did it. Two weeks later some friends did the same thing only with a rattlesnake. The police came out to Ft Bragg to ask for an end to those shenanigans before someone got really hurt bad. So here it is and yes it is true but we were not the originators, just "copy cats" so to speak.


BOBCAT IN SUITCASE

This really happened, and yes I was a major participant (conspirator I believe is the legal term) and it was the early 1970s (73' or 74") in Fayetteville NC. For you newbies (at Ft Bragg), Hay Street was all bars and massage parlors, (God, those were the days) particularly the 500 block and crowded with several thousand thirsty and horny GIs every Sat night. However, our travels were normally limited to Hay St as even God did not go on Gillespie Street at night as it was too dangerous. Lot of seedy riff raff of all types and you had to be looking for a fight or extreme trouble to go there.

I was a young Sgt in Special Forces, single, a barracks rat and looking for adventure of all types. Three of us went over to a guys house for a "few" beers. He said come and look what he had in the garage. He had a bobcat in a plastic dog kennel. It seems that he had hit it with a car, was going to mount it and had thrown it in the trunk. As he was taking it out he noticed it was still alive so he put it in the kennel and had been keeping it while he decided what to do with it.

Now after a few more beers, the discussion centered on what to do with a bobcat and an appropriate course of action was decided. We had all heard the “bobcat in a suitcase” story and decided to try it.

The old Greyhound bus station used to be on Gillespie Street and had a bad reputation for robberies and people stealing suitcases as one of the many issues. So naturally we decided to put the bobcat in the suitcase and see if it could get stolen and what might happen.

We had been drinking! (Now there is a surprise) Yes, alcohol was involved (does this term sound familiar). This was one pissed off kitty and he looked like he weighed about 30-35 plus pounds so our ORM (Operational Risk Management) rules kicked in.

Rule #1- Is this going to hurt?

Rule #2 Is it going to leave a mark?

rule #3 Am I going to get in trouble for this?

(If we can teach our children these, they might survive!)

Pretty sure all the beers helped the cognitive assessment process here too.

We found one old suitcase, two old wool GI blankets and two sets of the engineer gloves with the steel inserts, used for handling concertina wire. The plan (after a few more beers) was to be as follows: one blanket on the floor, two guys with gloves, one dumper of the kitty into the blanket and one guy who threw the second blanket over the kitty, and then the two handlers with gloves would leap on the second blanket and kitty and wrestle him down, and put him in the suitcase.

Overall it actually went pretty well, except the bobcat had to be shaken out of the cage. It never dawned on us he would be shy about coming out. This was getting pretty exciting because we were worried he would miss the blanket and we really did not have a good plan B. Now it was one hell of fight when he hit that blanket and the second blanket went over him. I was the blanket thrower by the way and not a glove wearer. (I learned the ORM rules better than the other two.) However, all basically went well after about 30-45 seconds of extreme excitement and we managed to get the cat corralled under the blanket using the gloves and blanket without any major scratches or bites. It did involve a lot of hollering at each other and general mayhem.

Now getting him into that old suitcase was the next challenge and required numerous "putting them razor sharp feet back in" before we could get the lid closed and snapped.

This called for at least another beer as we had survived the ordeal so far.

We piled into a car with the suitcase, drove to the old slave market traffic circle (corner of Gillespie and Hay St) and let the guy out with the suitcase and then to the bus station to wait for him. He caught a cab to the bus station, got out and left the suitcase out front (after shaking it up to make sure Mr. Kitty was awake and in a generally foul mood) and went in and immediately out the side door. The suitcase was snatched before he got out the side door and dumped into the back seat of a Cadillac convertible with two guys in front and two guys in back. I will let you guess what type characters they were.

They immediately drove back up Gillespie to the traffic circle, around it and proceeded down Hay St. At that time Hay St was angle parking on the street, Sat night and traffic was moving about 1-3 mph. It was right in front of the old Prince Charles Hotel(at that time it was the hooker and Marine hangout) and we were about 3 cars back when we noticed the rapid waving of arms, general jumping about and flurry of activity coming from all four corners inside the caddie. I would have killed for a video camera then.

This went on for about 20 seconds or so much to our great amusement before all four doors opened and all four guys bailed out with the car still moving. The caddie continued to roll, clipping about 4-5 cars on the rear before it finally stopped in the side of a car.

It seems Mr. Bobcat had done the Texas chainsaw massacre version on the caddie seats (red leather by the way), vinyl roof and all occupants before they bailed. Those claws were sharp, and he zipped open everything from front to rear, top to bottom to include all four occupants. There had been a bobcat football game inside the car, with the occupants throwing the bobcat from back seat to front and vice versa while the cat clawed and bit the hell out of everything in between.

What was the highlight of the evening though, was the four guys trying to explain to the police as they were being bandaged at the scene, as to just exactly how they had come into possession of a bobcat in a suitcase in the back seat of the car.

In the mean time we were holding court with the large crowd about 20-30 yds down the street, telling the real story, which resulted in a lot of laughter. Finally one of the cops wandered down and asked us if we had any idea of exactly how that bobcat got into the suitcase. The answer was obviously "Absolutely not, officer, none at all". He walked away laughing, obviously figuring it out. It seems that he went back and informed his fellow officers and EMTs as to his supposition as to the true nature of the genesis of the story.

At this point here comes the kitty just walking down Hay St slowly like not a care in the world, daring anyone to mess with him. Obviously, it was like Moses parting the Red Sea and everyone gave him a wide berth having seen what he was capable of. He wandered off into the night in search of his lady love.

No charges were filed on the caddie occupants and us. I think that the police figured no one would believe it anyway and they figured some had learned their lessons about stray suitcases anyway. Plus at this stage they were laughing so hard themselves as the victims were being patched up by the EMTs and crying about being cut up and the damage to the car.

Overall it was a wonderful evening, highlighting the proper use of ORM, involving alcohol, a bobcat and a lot of fun. How in the hell I actually survived those times is still a mystery. I graduated SF training with 18 out of 116 that started and ten years later only 10-12 of us left alive.

Before you ask, I swear it is true and I was a participant (just do not tell my kids).

One year my cousin did the fake lottery ticket gag. His wife's best friend did the scratch off. Thought she was a $25,000 winner. Doing the happy dance thru the house for 15 minutes acting like an idiot (not hard for her). Someone finally got her calmed down enough to read the back of the ticket. She then went bezerk....

Note to self... Never do the fake lottery ticket gag when there is ANYONE who might remotely take it seriously...

When I was in the Sinai, one of my best buds was black, from GA. He hated the fact that the state was having to remove the stars and bars from the state flag(2001). Pissed him off to no end. So, I left there several months before he did, ordered and had mailed to him the new GA state flag. That really got him going. He sent a pic of him burning it.

Had lunch with him at Rucker, 2013, he used to laugh that it was MY people that put Nobama in office.

A guy I knew in the USArmy told me this one, before he joined up him and some of his friends were on a road trip in a camper and were spending the night at a park in Tennessee or Kentucky if I remember correctly. They were partying pretty hard and one of his friends had a cassette recording of a mountain lion screaming, they had an awesome sound system in the camper and they played it for a minute or so and turned it off. The park was crowded with other people on vacation and after they played the cassette you couldnt see a soul outside. Not long after a police cruiser showed up and was shining a spot light all over the woods surrounding the park looking for a mountain lion.

Rubber chicken count?

My brother in law gave his Dallas cowboys loving buddy an "official Dallas cowboys dating kit" for his birthday. It was 6 feet of rope some duct tape and a sawed off piece of a broomstick.

For my brother's wedding (in addition to the real gift that I dont remember what it was) I saw a guy selling black velvet paintings made in Mexico out of the back of a El Camino on a corner.
Found a black velvet Elvis painting where Elvis looked distinctly Mexican, and I bickered the price down to 10 bucks. Wrapped it up and put it with the rest of the gifts without any tag saying who it was from. At the gift opening, there was a quiet murmer in the room when they opened it and people saw it, and the bride said "who is it from?" Everyone was afraid to laugh because no one knew if the "From" tag fell off.
He said he hung it in each new kids room and told them it was "El King."

I was out hunting with my 2 sons and it was around halloween, I put deer poop in a couple of those little glossette raisin boxes and gave each of them a box, I thought it was really funny.