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» Evil Pranks
The Death of Dave
Apologies in advance for length - it was a bit of an epic prank.
Back in College (all of 3 years ago now, how old I feel), the second year was fantastic. We felt like we owned the college - we'd been there an entire twelve months, we knew all the staff, how to blag free food from the canteen, who in the smoking area sold weed, everything. And so owning the college itself, we also owned any first years that were stupid enough to hang out with us. And hang out with us they did.
One girl in particular attached herself to our group (we will call her Sammy, for that was, and probably still is, her name). She was intensely irritating, loud and generally obnoxious and after a few weeks of following us from the canteen to the smoking area, smoking area to the field, around college and then on the bus into town, we decided enough was enough - she had to be ditched. But how to do it? She seemed intent on shadowing one guy in particular (the aforementioned Dave) and so with his blessing (it may even have been his idea, I forget now) we set about faking Dave's death.
It began one evening with someone calling Sammy's mobile in a panic - "Dave's been in a car accident! He's at the hospital in a really bad way. We're all here but he's asking for you, Sammy!". Being a first year, and thus only 17, Sammy could not drive. She ended up getting her mother out of bed at 11pm to drive her to the hospital where, upon arriving and not being able to trace Dave's location (what with him being happily at home having a beer and a good laugh at Sammy's expense), she called back the person who'd rung her earlier. "No," she was told, "we're not there! We're at {hospital name} hospital, in {town name} But oh God Sammy, it's too late! Dave's DEAD!" Cue floods of tears from both parties - fake from the person 'breaking the news' of course, but oh so very real from poor old Sammy. In his hour of need, Dave had asked for her, and she hadn't got there in time. How would she ever live with the guilt?
But it wasn't over there. Oh no. The next day someone "confided" to Sammy that in his last moments Dave had said that he wished she could have been there, as he thought he loved her, and wanted to tell her before he died. Hearing this of course, Sammy gushed that she wished she'd known, as she'd loved Dave all along, etc. which was quite plainly bullshit, but when the person in question is dead, I suppose you can get away with that sort of thing. Anyway, that evening we conviened on MSN as young folks do (or did in my day, they're probably all too busy doing drugs and mugging pensioners these days) and began to discuss the fun of this prank. We started a group conversation (with everyone's display names being "RIP DAVE I'LL MISS YOU!!1" and other such sentimentalities) and invited Sammy in. It started out as you might expect, people sharing their grief at the loss of their friend and discussing details of the funeral to be held the next week. That is, until one person who 'hadn't heard' of Dave's death (let's call this gent Larry) entered the conversation, and asked what all the fuss was about. "Haven't you heard? Dave's dead." Larry enquires as to which Dave this is. "Dave Smith." (name changed to protect the oh-so-guilty). "That cunt?" says Larry, "Good riddance."
Cue general outrage from the group until one by one, people start to turn.
"Well actually, he owed me money, the bastard."
"He stole my girlfriend in year 11."
"He slept with my sister you know. Git."
The final straw was when Mike, Dave's brother entered the room, and showed absolutely no grief over his brother's untimely demise, but instead was just pleased as he'd be "getting the bigger bedroom now!". This conversation went on for about 3 hours, I have the full transcript somewhere for anyone who doubts that people this evil truly exist. Eventually it turned to the absolutely ridiculous, with two people claiming that when the hospital had refused to honour Dave's final wishes (to do with some bizarre religion he belonged to, I believe), they had 'liberated' Dave's body from the hospital mortuary and were keeping it in a giant freezer in their basement. Sammy actually bought all of this, and was disgusted by her apparent friends' callous attitude towards their friend's tragic death.
The next day we were stood in the smoking area, which at our college was generally just part of the car park. Whilst we stood there badmouthing Dave and talking about who was going to get his stuff, Sammy stood in stoney silence. After a few minutes, a Ford Ka whizzed into the car park and parked up a small distance away. Out got Dave, who sauntered casually up to the group and hugged Sammy. She burst into tears.
I've never been more certain I'm going to hell.
(Sat 15th Dec 2007, 10:19, More)
The Death of Dave
Apologies in advance for length - it was a bit of an epic prank.
Back in College (all of 3 years ago now, how old I feel), the second year was fantastic. We felt like we owned the college - we'd been there an entire twelve months, we knew all the staff, how to blag free food from the canteen, who in the smoking area sold weed, everything. And so owning the college itself, we also owned any first years that were stupid enough to hang out with us. And hang out with us they did.
One girl in particular attached herself to our group (we will call her Sammy, for that was, and probably still is, her name). She was intensely irritating, loud and generally obnoxious and after a few weeks of following us from the canteen to the smoking area, smoking area to the field, around college and then on the bus into town, we decided enough was enough - she had to be ditched. But how to do it? She seemed intent on shadowing one guy in particular (the aforementioned Dave) and so with his blessing (it may even have been his idea, I forget now) we set about faking Dave's death.
It began one evening with someone calling Sammy's mobile in a panic - "Dave's been in a car accident! He's at the hospital in a really bad way. We're all here but he's asking for you, Sammy!". Being a first year, and thus only 17, Sammy could not drive. She ended up getting her mother out of bed at 11pm to drive her to the hospital where, upon arriving and not being able to trace Dave's location (what with him being happily at home having a beer and a good laugh at Sammy's expense), she called back the person who'd rung her earlier. "No," she was told, "we're not there! We're at {hospital name} hospital, in {town name} But oh God Sammy, it's too late! Dave's DEAD!" Cue floods of tears from both parties - fake from the person 'breaking the news' of course, but oh so very real from poor old Sammy. In his hour of need, Dave had asked for her, and she hadn't got there in time. How would she ever live with the guilt?
But it wasn't over there. Oh no. The next day someone "confided" to Sammy that in his last moments Dave had said that he wished she could have been there, as he thought he loved her, and wanted to tell her before he died. Hearing this of course, Sammy gushed that she wished she'd known, as she'd loved Dave all along, etc. which was quite plainly bullshit, but when the person in question is dead, I suppose you can get away with that sort of thing. Anyway, that evening we conviened on MSN as young folks do (or did in my day, they're probably all too busy doing drugs and mugging pensioners these days) and began to discuss the fun of this prank. We started a group conversation (with everyone's display names being "RIP DAVE I'LL MISS YOU!!1" and other such sentimentalities) and invited Sammy in. It started out as you might expect, people sharing their grief at the loss of their friend and discussing details of the funeral to be held the next week. That is, until one person who 'hadn't heard' of Dave's death (let's call this gent Larry) entered the conversation, and asked what all the fuss was about. "Haven't you heard? Dave's dead." Larry enquires as to which Dave this is. "Dave Smith." (name changed to protect the oh-so-guilty). "That cunt?" says Larry, "Good riddance."
Cue general outrage from the group until one by one, people start to turn.
"Well actually, he owed me money, the bastard."
"He stole my girlfriend in year 11."
"He slept with my sister you know. Git."
The final straw was when Mike, Dave's brother entered the room, and showed absolutely no grief over his brother's untimely demise, but instead was just pleased as he'd be "getting the bigger bedroom now!". This conversation went on for about 3 hours, I have the full transcript somewhere for anyone who doubts that people this evil truly exist. Eventually it turned to the absolutely ridiculous, with two people claiming that when the hospital had refused to honour Dave's final wishes (to do with some bizarre religion he belonged to, I believe), they had 'liberated' Dave's body from the hospital mortuary and were keeping it in a giant freezer in their basement. Sammy actually bought all of this, and was disgusted by her apparent friends' callous attitude towards their friend's tragic death.
The next day we were stood in the smoking area, which at our college was generally just part of the car park. Whilst we stood there badmouthing Dave and talking about who was going to get his stuff, Sammy stood in stoney silence. After a few minutes, a Ford Ka whizzed into the car park and parked up a small distance away. Out got Dave, who sauntered casually up to the group and hugged Sammy. She burst into tears.
I've never been more certain I'm going to hell.
(Sat 15th Dec 2007, 10:19, More)
» I'm going to Hell...
The Death of Dave
A pearoast from the Evil Pranks QOTW.
Back in College (all of 3 years ago now, how old I feel), the second year was fantastic. We felt like we owned the college - we'd been there an entire twelve months, we knew all the staff, how to blag free food from the canteen, who in the smoking area sold weed, everything. And so owning the college itself, we also owned any first years that were stupid enough to hang out with us. And hang out with us they did.
One girl in particular attached herself to our group (we will call her Sammy, for that was, and probably still is, her name). She was intensely irritating, loud and generally obnoxious and after a few weeks of following us from the canteen to the smoking area, smoking area to the field, around college and then on the bus into town, we decided enough was enough - she had to be ditched. But how to do it? She seemed intent on shadowing one guy in particular (the aforementioned Dave) and so with his blessing (it may even have been his idea, I forget now) we set about faking Dave's death.
It began one evening with someone calling Sammy's mobile in a panic - "Dave's been in a car accident! He's at the hospital in a really bad way. We're all here but he's asking for you, Sammy!". Being a first year, and thus only 17, Sammy could not drive. She ended up getting her mother out of bed at 11pm to drive her to the hospital where, upon arriving and not being able to trace Dave's location (what with him being happily at home having a beer and a good laugh at Sammy's expense), she called back the person who'd rung her earlier. "No," she was told, "we're not there! We're at {hospital name} hospital, in {town name} But oh God Sammy, it's too late! Dave's DEAD!" Cue floods of tears from both parties - fake from the person 'breaking the news' of course, but oh so very real from poor old Sammy. In his hour of need, Dave had asked for her, and she hadn't got there in time. How would she ever live with the guilt?
But it wasn't over there. Oh no. The next day someone "confided" to Sammy that in his last moments Dave had said that he wished she could have been there, as he thought he loved her, and wanted to tell her before he died. Hearing this of course, Sammy gushed that she wished she'd known, as she'd loved Dave all along, etc. which was quite plainly bullshit, but when the person in question is dead, I suppose you can get away with that sort of thing. Anyway, that evening we conviened on MSN as young folks do (or did in my day, they're probably all too busy doing drugs and mugging pensioners these days) and began to discuss the fun of this prank. We started a group conversation (with everyone's display names being "RIP DAVE I'LL MISS YOU!!1" and other such sentimentalities) and invited Sammy in. It started out as you might expect, people sharing their grief at the loss of their friend and discussing details of the funeral to be held the next week. That is, until one person who 'hadn't heard' of Dave's death (let's call this gent Larry) entered the conversation, and asked what all the fuss was about. "Haven't you heard? Dave's dead." Larry enquires as to which Dave this is. "Dave Smith." (name changed to protect the oh-so-guilty). "That cunt?" says Larry, "Good riddance."
Cue general outrage from the group until one by one, people start to turn.
"Well actually, he owed me money, the bastard."
"He stole my girlfriend in year 11."
"He slept with my sister you know. Git."
The final straw was when Mike, Dave's brother entered the room, and showed absolutely no grief over his brother's untimely demise, but instead was just pleased as he'd be "getting the bigger bedroom now!". This conversation went on for about 3 hours, I have the full transcript somewhere for anyone who doubts that people this evil truly exist. Eventually it turned to the absolutely ridiculous, with two people claiming that when the hospital had refused to honour Dave's final wishes (to do with some bizarre religion he belonged to, I believe), they had 'liberated' Dave's body from the hospital mortuary and were keeping it in a giant freezer in their basement. Sammy actually bought all of this, and was disgusted by her apparent friends' callous attitude towards their friend's tragic death.
The next day we were stood in the smoking area, which at our college was generally just part of the car park. Whilst we stood there badmouthing Dave and talking about who was going to get his stuff, Sammy stood in stoney silence. After a few minutes, a Ford Ka whizzed into the car park and parked up a small distance away. Out got Dave, who sauntered casually up to the group and hugged Sammy. She burst into tears.
I've never been more certain I'm going to hell.
(Sun 14th Dec 2008, 16:24, More)
The Death of Dave
A pearoast from the Evil Pranks QOTW.
Back in College (all of 3 years ago now, how old I feel), the second year was fantastic. We felt like we owned the college - we'd been there an entire twelve months, we knew all the staff, how to blag free food from the canteen, who in the smoking area sold weed, everything. And so owning the college itself, we also owned any first years that were stupid enough to hang out with us. And hang out with us they did.
One girl in particular attached herself to our group (we will call her Sammy, for that was, and probably still is, her name). She was intensely irritating, loud and generally obnoxious and after a few weeks of following us from the canteen to the smoking area, smoking area to the field, around college and then on the bus into town, we decided enough was enough - she had to be ditched. But how to do it? She seemed intent on shadowing one guy in particular (the aforementioned Dave) and so with his blessing (it may even have been his idea, I forget now) we set about faking Dave's death.
It began one evening with someone calling Sammy's mobile in a panic - "Dave's been in a car accident! He's at the hospital in a really bad way. We're all here but he's asking for you, Sammy!". Being a first year, and thus only 17, Sammy could not drive. She ended up getting her mother out of bed at 11pm to drive her to the hospital where, upon arriving and not being able to trace Dave's location (what with him being happily at home having a beer and a good laugh at Sammy's expense), she called back the person who'd rung her earlier. "No," she was told, "we're not there! We're at {hospital name} hospital, in {town name} But oh God Sammy, it's too late! Dave's DEAD!" Cue floods of tears from both parties - fake from the person 'breaking the news' of course, but oh so very real from poor old Sammy. In his hour of need, Dave had asked for her, and she hadn't got there in time. How would she ever live with the guilt?
But it wasn't over there. Oh no. The next day someone "confided" to Sammy that in his last moments Dave had said that he wished she could have been there, as he thought he loved her, and wanted to tell her before he died. Hearing this of course, Sammy gushed that she wished she'd known, as she'd loved Dave all along, etc. which was quite plainly bullshit, but when the person in question is dead, I suppose you can get away with that sort of thing. Anyway, that evening we conviened on MSN as young folks do (or did in my day, they're probably all too busy doing drugs and mugging pensioners these days) and began to discuss the fun of this prank. We started a group conversation (with everyone's display names being "RIP DAVE I'LL MISS YOU!!1" and other such sentimentalities) and invited Sammy in. It started out as you might expect, people sharing their grief at the loss of their friend and discussing details of the funeral to be held the next week. That is, until one person who 'hadn't heard' of Dave's death (let's call this gent Larry) entered the conversation, and asked what all the fuss was about. "Haven't you heard? Dave's dead." Larry enquires as to which Dave this is. "Dave Smith." (name changed to protect the oh-so-guilty). "That cunt?" says Larry, "Good riddance."
Cue general outrage from the group until one by one, people start to turn.
"Well actually, he owed me money, the bastard."
"He stole my girlfriend in year 11."
"He slept with my sister you know. Git."
The final straw was when Mike, Dave's brother entered the room, and showed absolutely no grief over his brother's untimely demise, but instead was just pleased as he'd be "getting the bigger bedroom now!". This conversation went on for about 3 hours, I have the full transcript somewhere for anyone who doubts that people this evil truly exist. Eventually it turned to the absolutely ridiculous, with two people claiming that when the hospital had refused to honour Dave's final wishes (to do with some bizarre religion he belonged to, I believe), they had 'liberated' Dave's body from the hospital mortuary and were keeping it in a giant freezer in their basement. Sammy actually bought all of this, and was disgusted by her apparent friends' callous attitude towards their friend's tragic death.
The next day we were stood in the smoking area, which at our college was generally just part of the car park. Whilst we stood there badmouthing Dave and talking about who was going to get his stuff, Sammy stood in stoney silence. After a few minutes, a Ford Ka whizzed into the car park and parked up a small distance away. Out got Dave, who sauntered casually up to the group and hugged Sammy. She burst into tears.
I've never been more certain I'm going to hell.
(Sun 14th Dec 2008, 16:24, More)
» Dumb things you've done
This is happening to me, right now
I attended a gig this evening (Reuben's christmas show at the Westy in Aldershot for anyone interested), and was invited back to a friend's house afterwards for drinks and general merriment. Stopping in at home inbetween the two, I told my father (I'm only 20, and still live with my parents, alas) that I'd be going and staying out, returning tomorrow morning in time to have a shower and get ready for work at 11am.
After drinks took a backseat to retrieving and reconstructing an old MSN log (referred to in my QOTW post "The Death of Dave" last week - link on the way soon for those who requested it!) I opted to drive home about 3am instead of crashing there for the night.
I arrived home about 3:15 to find that my father had put the security chain on the front door. I'm currently sat in the car outside my house accessing our wireless network, with 13 minutes battery time remaining on my laptop. Last time I checked it was -2 degrees (C, not F, for any yanks) outside. I've tried banging on the door, shouting through the letterbox and phoning the house. They seem stubborn in their slumber. Balls.
That's pretty stupid, right? My own damn fault. I'd drive back to my friend's house if I had enough petrol.... I've got work in 6 hours for a rather reputable store which doesn't sound dissimilar to Sparks and Mencer, I can't imagine they're going to like me turning up for an 11 hour shift on the Saturday before Christmas after no sleep. Damn, damn, damn.
*shivers*
(Sat 22nd Dec 2007, 5:00, More)
This is happening to me, right now
I attended a gig this evening (Reuben's christmas show at the Westy in Aldershot for anyone interested), and was invited back to a friend's house afterwards for drinks and general merriment. Stopping in at home inbetween the two, I told my father (I'm only 20, and still live with my parents, alas) that I'd be going and staying out, returning tomorrow morning in time to have a shower and get ready for work at 11am.
After drinks took a backseat to retrieving and reconstructing an old MSN log (referred to in my QOTW post "The Death of Dave" last week - link on the way soon for those who requested it!) I opted to drive home about 3am instead of crashing there for the night.
I arrived home about 3:15 to find that my father had put the security chain on the front door. I'm currently sat in the car outside my house accessing our wireless network, with 13 minutes battery time remaining on my laptop. Last time I checked it was -2 degrees (C, not F, for any yanks) outside. I've tried banging on the door, shouting through the letterbox and phoning the house. They seem stubborn in their slumber. Balls.
That's pretty stupid, right? My own damn fault. I'd drive back to my friend's house if I had enough petrol.... I've got work in 6 hours for a rather reputable store which doesn't sound dissimilar to Sparks and Mencer, I can't imagine they're going to like me turning up for an 11 hour shift on the Saturday before Christmas after no sleep. Damn, damn, damn.
*shivers*
(Sat 22nd Dec 2007, 5:00, More)
» Accidental animal cruelty
Sunbathing?
Finally, after about 3 years of lurking, a QOTW I have a story for!
This is not my story, but the friend of a friend's story, which I know usually indicates an urban myth, but I've never heard this from anyone... if you have, feel free to tear me to shreds, and apologies for wasting your time.
This guy (let's call him Jim, because I have no idea what his real name is) was driving through a council estate just outside Reading when he saw a cat run across the road in front of him. Slamming on his brakes, he did his best avoid said cat, but nonetheless hit it, pretty much square on. He pulled the car over and got out to check how it was and there, sprawled across the pavement, writhing around in obvious pain, was this cat. Not wanting to see the creature in unnecessary discomfort, he decided to put the creature out of its misery and he went to his boot. He got out a spade (which is where, admittedly, I falter a bit with this story, as I've no idea why he would have a spade in the boot), walked over to where the cat was and (reluctantly, I would hope), smacked the cat one over the head. Alas, it just continued to writhe around, so he hit it again. And again. Until it was still, and about as dead as could be.
"What the fuck have you done to my cat?!" came a voice from a rather angry (read: foaming at the mouth) woman, advancing on him from a nearby front door. A little startled, the guy tried to explain, "Well I.. uh, I ran it over... but it was still alive... so I was just trying to... er... put it out of its misery..." Still screaming, the woman pointed at his car. "What's that then? What the fuck is that?"
Looking over at his car, he saw what she was pointing at. A bloody, furry mess, wrapped around his back left wheel.
"MY cat was SUNBATHING, YOU MALICIOUS LITTLE SHIT!"
From what I gather Jim didn't hang around all that long after that.
(Tue 11th Dec 2007, 16:30, More)
Sunbathing?
Finally, after about 3 years of lurking, a QOTW I have a story for!
This is not my story, but the friend of a friend's story, which I know usually indicates an urban myth, but I've never heard this from anyone... if you have, feel free to tear me to shreds, and apologies for wasting your time.
This guy (let's call him Jim, because I have no idea what his real name is) was driving through a council estate just outside Reading when he saw a cat run across the road in front of him. Slamming on his brakes, he did his best avoid said cat, but nonetheless hit it, pretty much square on. He pulled the car over and got out to check how it was and there, sprawled across the pavement, writhing around in obvious pain, was this cat. Not wanting to see the creature in unnecessary discomfort, he decided to put the creature out of its misery and he went to his boot. He got out a spade (which is where, admittedly, I falter a bit with this story, as I've no idea why he would have a spade in the boot), walked over to where the cat was and (reluctantly, I would hope), smacked the cat one over the head. Alas, it just continued to writhe around, so he hit it again. And again. Until it was still, and about as dead as could be.
"What the fuck have you done to my cat?!" came a voice from a rather angry (read: foaming at the mouth) woman, advancing on him from a nearby front door. A little startled, the guy tried to explain, "Well I.. uh, I ran it over... but it was still alive... so I was just trying to... er... put it out of its misery..." Still screaming, the woman pointed at his car. "What's that then? What the fuck is that?"
Looking over at his car, he saw what she was pointing at. A bloody, furry mess, wrapped around his back left wheel.
"MY cat was SUNBATHING, YOU MALICIOUS LITTLE SHIT!"
From what I gather Jim didn't hang around all that long after that.
(Tue 11th Dec 2007, 16:30, More)
» Blood
I Say I Say I Say
Anyone here had a go at themselves
for a laugh? Anyone opened their wrists
with a blade in the bath? Those in the dark
at the back, listen hard. Those at the front
in the know, those of us who have, hands up,
let's show that inch of lacerated skin
between the forearm and the fist. Let's tell it
like it is: strong drink, a crimson tidemark
round the tub, a yard of lint, white towels
washed a dozen times, still pink. Tough luck.
A passion then for watches, bangles, cuffs.
A likely story: you were lashed by brambles
picking berries from the woods. Come clean, come good,
repeat with me the punch line 'Just like blood'
when those at the back rush forward to say
how a little love goes a long long long way.
(Simon Armitage)
(Wed 13th Aug 2008, 0:04, More)
I Say I Say I Say
Anyone here had a go at themselves
for a laugh? Anyone opened their wrists
with a blade in the bath? Those in the dark
at the back, listen hard. Those at the front
in the know, those of us who have, hands up,
let's show that inch of lacerated skin
between the forearm and the fist. Let's tell it
like it is: strong drink, a crimson tidemark
round the tub, a yard of lint, white towels
washed a dozen times, still pink. Tough luck.
A passion then for watches, bangles, cuffs.
A likely story: you were lashed by brambles
picking berries from the woods. Come clean, come good,
repeat with me the punch line 'Just like blood'
when those at the back rush forward to say
how a little love goes a long long long way.
(Simon Armitage)
(Wed 13th Aug 2008, 0:04, More)