Thursday, May 12, 2005
Give Me Five!
Hufton's comment from yesterday got me thinking about the many pranks pulled at 23 Boston Ave during its hey-day. I will list the Top 5 in no particular order.
Number 5
The Victim: Brendan
The Culprits: Brian, Steve
Brendan had cooked up a big tray of lasagna for the week and set it out on the counter to let it cool before putting it in the fridge. Steve and I were hanging out in the living room sometime around midnight and knew that Brendan would come out of his room shortly to put his lasagna away.
"Wouldn't it be funny if we ate it all?" Steve asked me.
"We could imply that we ate it all," I suggested, trying to find equally funny alternatives to splitting an entire tray of lasagna with Steve at midnight.
After we discussed hiding the lasagna and smearing marinara sauce on our faces, we realized there was an issue with this plan: Steve and I are terrible liars. We decided that we would hide the tray full of lasagna in the cabinet with the pots and pans, while replacing the original with an imposter (and empty) tray, smeared with sauce. Avoiding the bad liar issue, Steve and I scurried to the top of the stairs, where we could listen to what was going on in the kitchen. As we heard Brendan walking toward the kitchen, we were giddy with excitement. Step. Step. Approaching the dummy tray. Crinkling of aluminum foil. Pause. Clearly, confusion had set in. Commence frantic opening and closing of virtually every kitchen cabinet (except the one we hid the lasagna in?!). Hurried footsteps to the back hall and back to the kitchen. We had our laughs, so we decided it was time to let him in on it. Brendan took it well, but there was nary an unguarded lasagna tray to be found after that.
Number 4
The Victim: Novak!
The Culprits: Irf, Hufton, Jack
Technically, this did not occur at Boston Ave, but there were enough Boston Ave residents involved to merit an appearance on this list.
Jon Novak was gracious enough to have Irf, Hufton, Jack, Julia #2, and a few of Julia's friends over for dinner at his parent's house. What did Irf, Hufton, and Jack do in return? Well, for starters, they spent the entire evening calling Jon "Joan". Then, they got their hands on some pornography, cut it into tiny pictures, and distributed said pictures throughout the Novak house. In the soap dish, the corner of a picture frame, the silverware drawer -- you name it, the entire house was littered with small samples of porn. Novak, uh, wasn't thrilled with the prospect of his parents finding any of this, but he showed up at our Halloween party anyway.
Number 3
The Victim: Hufton
The Culprits: Brian, Irfan, Brendan
Hufton always went to bed before everyone else, making him an easy target for unwanted tomfoolery.
"Maybe we should just go into his room and moon him," Irf suggested.
"All 3 of us?" I asked.
"Yeah, why not?"
Since Hufton's room was long and narrow with a large desk obscuring part of the entryway, we decided that we would need to back our way in, single file, already mooning. Irf opened the door, flipped on the light, and led the way while Hufton's immediate screams of disgust provided the soundtrack to the attack. He got up on his bed and tried to fend us off by hitting us with pillows, but then realized that doing that meant looking at us. We cornered him on his bed, then fled the scene...mission accomplished.
Number 2
The Victim: Janet Davis
The Culprits: Hufton, Irfan, Steve, Brian, Brendan, and Sheri
Again, this did not occur on the property of 23 Boston Ave, but did involve all residents.
A few years ago, Janet decided that it would be a great idea to throw a party in the spring and have a Prom theme to it.
"Wouldn't it be nice to see the girls looking pretty in their dresses and the guys looking sharp in their suits?" she thought. Wishful thinking, Janet. Wishful thinking. We refused to conform to this theme...at least in the way she wanted us to. We bought our Prom dresses at goodwill, along with handbags, costume jewelry, and tiaras. I think Hufton and Steve even found shoes to fit into. To top it off, Sheri was our escort, wearing a tuxedo and a crown. I still recall Janet's shriek as we walked through the front door...
Number 1
The Victim: Brendan
The Culprits: Brian, Irfan, Steve, Hufton
As Hufton mentioned in his comment yesterday, The Guy was essentially a dummy with a pumpkin head that spent most of his time at either the dining room table, the living room, or in the front entrance. As Hufton also mentioned, Brendan hates The Guy. What better motivation to get the guy just a little more involved in Brendan's life while he was away on a business trip?
I believe Brendan returned home from several trips to find that The Guy had been sleeping in Brendan's bed, waiting for him. When we found out that Brendan was going away again, it was decided that we needed a new place for the guy to occupy. So, when Brendan returned home again, there was no sign of The Guy in his bed. In fact, Sheri was the first to spot him in all his Pumkin-headed, flannel-shirted, red-sneakered glory, sitting in the driver's seat of Brendan's SUV, gloved hands positioned at 10 and 2 on the steering wheel. Oh, The Guy...even though you're now dismembered in our back bathroom closet, we still love you.
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Number 5
The Victim: Brendan
The Culprits: Brian, Steve
Brendan had cooked up a big tray of lasagna for the week and set it out on the counter to let it cool before putting it in the fridge. Steve and I were hanging out in the living room sometime around midnight and knew that Brendan would come out of his room shortly to put his lasagna away.
"Wouldn't it be funny if we ate it all?" Steve asked me.
"We could imply that we ate it all," I suggested, trying to find equally funny alternatives to splitting an entire tray of lasagna with Steve at midnight.
After we discussed hiding the lasagna and smearing marinara sauce on our faces, we realized there was an issue with this plan: Steve and I are terrible liars. We decided that we would hide the tray full of lasagna in the cabinet with the pots and pans, while replacing the original with an imposter (and empty) tray, smeared with sauce. Avoiding the bad liar issue, Steve and I scurried to the top of the stairs, where we could listen to what was going on in the kitchen. As we heard Brendan walking toward the kitchen, we were giddy with excitement. Step. Step. Approaching the dummy tray. Crinkling of aluminum foil. Pause. Clearly, confusion had set in. Commence frantic opening and closing of virtually every kitchen cabinet (except the one we hid the lasagna in?!). Hurried footsteps to the back hall and back to the kitchen. We had our laughs, so we decided it was time to let him in on it. Brendan took it well, but there was nary an unguarded lasagna tray to be found after that.
Number 4
The Victim: Novak!
The Culprits: Irf, Hufton, Jack
Technically, this did not occur at Boston Ave, but there were enough Boston Ave residents involved to merit an appearance on this list.
Jon Novak was gracious enough to have Irf, Hufton, Jack, Julia #2, and a few of Julia's friends over for dinner at his parent's house. What did Irf, Hufton, and Jack do in return? Well, for starters, they spent the entire evening calling Jon "Joan". Then, they got their hands on some pornography, cut it into tiny pictures, and distributed said pictures throughout the Novak house. In the soap dish, the corner of a picture frame, the silverware drawer -- you name it, the entire house was littered with small samples of porn. Novak, uh, wasn't thrilled with the prospect of his parents finding any of this, but he showed up at our Halloween party anyway.
Number 3
The Victim: Hufton
The Culprits: Brian, Irfan, Brendan
Hufton always went to bed before everyone else, making him an easy target for unwanted tomfoolery.
"Maybe we should just go into his room and moon him," Irf suggested.
"All 3 of us?" I asked.
"Yeah, why not?"
Since Hufton's room was long and narrow with a large desk obscuring part of the entryway, we decided that we would need to back our way in, single file, already mooning. Irf opened the door, flipped on the light, and led the way while Hufton's immediate screams of disgust provided the soundtrack to the attack. He got up on his bed and tried to fend us off by hitting us with pillows, but then realized that doing that meant looking at us. We cornered him on his bed, then fled the scene...mission accomplished.
Number 2
The Victim: Janet Davis
The Culprits: Hufton, Irfan, Steve, Brian, Brendan, and Sheri
Again, this did not occur on the property of 23 Boston Ave, but did involve all residents.
A few years ago, Janet decided that it would be a great idea to throw a party in the spring and have a Prom theme to it.
"Wouldn't it be nice to see the girls looking pretty in their dresses and the guys looking sharp in their suits?" she thought. Wishful thinking, Janet. Wishful thinking. We refused to conform to this theme...at least in the way she wanted us to. We bought our Prom dresses at goodwill, along with handbags, costume jewelry, and tiaras. I think Hufton and Steve even found shoes to fit into. To top it off, Sheri was our escort, wearing a tuxedo and a crown. I still recall Janet's shriek as we walked through the front door...
Number 1
The Victim: Brendan
The Culprits: Brian, Irfan, Steve, Hufton
As Hufton mentioned in his comment yesterday, The Guy was essentially a dummy with a pumpkin head that spent most of his time at either the dining room table, the living room, or in the front entrance. As Hufton also mentioned, Brendan hates The Guy. What better motivation to get the guy just a little more involved in Brendan's life while he was away on a business trip?
I believe Brendan returned home from several trips to find that The Guy had been sleeping in Brendan's bed, waiting for him. When we found out that Brendan was going away again, it was decided that we needed a new place for the guy to occupy. So, when Brendan returned home again, there was no sign of The Guy in his bed. In fact, Sheri was the first to spot him in all his Pumkin-headed, flannel-shirted, red-sneakered glory, sitting in the driver's seat of Brendan's SUV, gloved hands positioned at 10 and 2 on the steering wheel. Oh, The Guy...even though you're now dismembered in our back bathroom closet, we still love you.
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