A funny thing happened on the way to…*somewhere*, because it could be somewhere or anywhere, but this is always funny – well, for the people who are in on the joke. For one person, it’s terrifyingly awful.
So here’s the trick. Wait until you and a group of friends are driving in a car, preferably late at night – coming home from a sumptuous dinner at a fancy-schmancy restaurant or somesuch loveliness – and one person (the unwitting and now self-appointed victim) begins to fall asleep, their eyes gently drooping as slumber overtakes them. Watch them snuggle back into their seat, and hang on: you want them *onlyjust* asleep.
In the meantime you quietly communicate your wicked plans to the other occupants of the car, and you all try to stifle your giggles at just HOW funny this is going to be. Because trust me – it’s going to be AWESOME.
The driver now ensures that they’re on an empty road (very important, this part – because
no prank most pranks aren’t worth risking death to pull off. This one isn’t…) and you count down, quietly, then on your cue, the driver does his/her very best emergency stop, as everyone screams at the top of their lungs.
Your victim will be dragged, quite literally SCREAMING from their repose, may or may not lose control of their bladder, and will almost certainly turn the air blue as they vent their fury about the prank on their so-called friends. Meanwhile, you plotters will be busy busting your guts laughing and high-fiving each other on having pulled the joke off so slickly.
Your victim-friend may be put-out and pouty at first, but just keep making fun of how scared they looked/the scream they let out/the mess they made until they give up and agree that it was a damn funny prank and they’re just upset they didn’t orchestrate it first.
There’s one drawback to this prank (and I speak from personal experience) – if ever you’re in the car with this same group of friends, and it’s been a long, hard day and the road is winding away, mesmerising you, making your eyes heavy and sending you off into that happy, safe dreamland in the back of the car, BE WARNED: They will get you back…
Today I FINALLY made good on my end of the Cleaning Swap bargain – at LAST! I was beginning to feel bad about how long it had gone on, and I still hadn’t made it over to Helen’s to help her clean. Meantime my flat’s messy again.
I happened to be borrowing SatNav from WonderAunty, so it seemed like the perfick opportunity. I took cake (because that’s polite, right?) and nipped off to the next city to go and help clean. I arrived to a smiling, happy, excited friend, and we
rolled up our sleeves and got straight to work we put the kettle on for a cup of tea and a slice of cake before starting.
We spent a wonderful evening *squee*ing in delight at how much cleaning was happening. I played ‘Best Supporting’ role, and Helen took the lead, meting out tasks and telling me what to do (I don’t mean to imply that she’s bossy – she just knows what and how she wants done in her house (though she did rather know what and how she wanted done in my house, so perhaps…nah!)).
It was AWESOME. We cleaned our little hearts out, had lovely chats, danced around the vacuum cleaner to ‘cleaning music’ and had more cake at the end, just to round things off.
Insomnia. Sucks. If that’s what it is. But I’m still not sleeping right and it’s bugging the heck outta me.
I’m widely recognised to be one of the least green-fingered people most of my friends-and-relations know. I’ve been called “Less nurturing than the desert” to my face.
But I think I’m perhaps not so bad as all that at nurture – not of plants, but of people. I like talking, I like encouraging, I like connecting and
being nosy keeping in touch to know that my friends are alright.
Maybe that’s my ‘thing’ – what I get to do – I could be a caretaker.
Blogging is one thing, but writing for proper is harder. I’ve fallen waaaay behind on my New Year’s Resolution ‘A Year of Thankfulness’ journal after I didn’t take it away on my mini-break last week (and somehow haven’t picked it up since). And my novel is about 200 words further on than it was a month ago.
A wet string of spittle flies across the short distance between us and lands on my shoulder, decorating me with his anger. His rage-filled yelling is nearly incoherent, his eyes are bugging out and his face is an awful, livid red.
“I can’t believe you DID this to me! I’m gonna make you pay for this, you stupid bitch – once is one time too many, and I will NOT FORGET IT!”
I meet his gaze with my own – steely and defiant (how could I ever have found him charming?), and smirk slightly.
“Not once…” I tell him, enjoying it, “…twice.”