What's the best or worst prank you've ever played at school?
August 6th 2007 03:05
So - in order to get the ball rolling – it’s probably best I waste no time and submit my personal schoolyard favourite - from oh so many years ago.
Of course names, dates and locales of the following have been changed to protect the innocent (and not so innocent).
Plied with the ignominy of a week’s detention from our industrial arts master - thanks in part to the shenanigans of a couple of ‘mates’ – I (along with the aforementioned hoard of marauding ruffians) sort to wreak our revenge on what was plainly (in our view anyway) an unjust sentence to a superfluous classroom crime.
Faced with the need for a swift and tactical response – our intrepid gang of four proceeded to invoke a masterful (yet simple) plan to instill humour and retribution.
Using the well-tested schoolyard theory that a student with a clipboard is never questioned by authority – the awesome foursome proceeded to smuggle a 1litre tin of standard oil-based lacquer into a textile and design classroom to ‘re-touch’ a chair in need of restoration.
Masked by the heady scent of thinners which constantly filled the said room at any point during the day – the task was relatively easy and one which would afford maximum smirk value for the other 30 lads set to enjoy the fruits of our ingenious labours.
Conspicuous by our readiness to enter class after the lunch break – we took our allotted places next to work benches awaiting the arrival of the maligned victim to take his seat in the annals of classroom prank history.
As the clock ticked on – and the anxious wait played out - it became apparent that something had gone awry – with the said textiles sergeant having left for the day – leaving responsibility for the woodworking rabble with . . . . . . the stalag commander – the Principal!
Hearts in mouths – and with our thoughts now turned to just how we were going to a) deal with receiving not only the cane but also b) dealing with expulsion – in traipsed the headmaster – who proceeded to plant his derriere where it mattered most.
Smitten with a combination of uncontrollable mirth aligned with uncontrollable fear – we (the intrepid four) held our ground and nerve for the next 40 mins – as the principal stayed planted – oblivious to what had be felled him – and content with his own paperwork.
Collectively rising in answer to the period bell – the room dispersed – and for the next hour we waited – ruing our decision to move forward with the prank as we waited to be summonsed.
Hours rolled into a day, days rolled into a week and still no word.
The longer the wait the more serious we envisaged the consequences.
It wasn’t until term’s end (four weeks later) that we collectively felt more at ease and got about our daily business without fear in our hearts and minds.
It was 20 years later – at a school reunion – when all four of us confronted the stalag commander – who by now had withered somewhat and presented less than the fearsome outlook that reigned supreme all those years ago.
“Remember that time sir . . . so the conversation went . . . . when yaddah yaddah yaddah”
“Yes of course – came the retort.
“That was pretty funny – even I had to laugh.
“But how did you boys come to know about what Mr X had done?”
“Mr X” – we quizzed.
“Yes – we were quite good friends outside the school environment and always playing practical jokes on one another – been doing it since we attended college together - but never you mind – I got one back on him a few weeks later – which I can’t really mention – but he never realized it was me.”
And so it was . . .
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