My old student housemates bought a ferret while drunk.
Fair play to them, I suppose. You stumble out of a pub midway through an all-day drinking session to grab some chips, and trudge past a pet shop announcing "Ferrets - 5 pounds". A fiver for a ferret, that's like a pound per leg and a quid for the rest. That's a bargain by anyone's reckoning.

So they cut the drinking short and walked home, with the ferret tucked inside one of their jackets. As they walked in the door the ferret was released, and given free roam of the house to explore while my three drunk housemates giggled and clapped with childish glee.

The giggles turned to roars of laughter as the ferret wrestled a lump of meat out of yesterday's congealing curry; laughter turned to peals of delight as it lapped up stale lager from a near-empty pint glass. And the peals turned into hoots and cheers as the ferret, huddled under the coffee table, unleashed a torrent of liquid diarrhea over the lounge carpet.

The ferret didn't last a day; the back door was "accidentally" left open and the cheeky mustelid saw his chance for freedom outside the lair of those whooping baboons I lived with. But the stench lingered on for days after; no-one bothered to clean up the shit in the lounge, and as the old beer and curry leftovers finally got tipped into the bin, there was little else to mask the reek of ferret shit. Another housemate and I asked, moaned, shouted at the three drunkards to clean up their mess, and got nothing in reply.

So we donned marigolds and got scrubbing; I'm not living in a house splattered with raw animal shit for more than a week, 2 weeks max. But before we scooped up the faeces, we took a box of Marlboro lights that the three drunks had left in the kitchen. One by one, we dipped the filters into the shit, then replaced the fags back in the box, baccy-end up, so that the smokers would be none the wiser.

They only found out three weeks later when we laughed about the prank to a visiting mate, unaware that one of the victims was still in his room next to the lounge, and had heard the entire plot (and our laughing) through his bedroom door. Which only made the revenge that much sweeter.
( Grrrmachine the indifference engine, Mon 23 Nov 2015, 8:39, Reply)