Prank wars

Every college student who lives in a dorm knows there are many ups and downs.  But fuck the downs, I’m going to talk about the ups for now. Roommates and suite-mates play jokes on each other all the time.  Dumb little pranks that are whatever and are easily shaken off and laughed about within minutes.  Well, because I literally lived in the craziest, most fucked up (in a good way) house on campus, we had a prank war.  It all started because of me.  Hm…sounds about right.

A few weeks prior to the climax of the prank war, I (because I’m a fucking genius) would leave my Facebook page up and leave the room or forget to sign out on my friend’s laptop.  A few hours later, I checked Facebook and my statuses were changed to obscene and disturbing sentences.  Here are a few examples… “Pat Rosa is sniffing my own ass, and it’s wonderful” or my personal favorite, “Pat Rosa is a fuck.”  Really? That’s it?  Thanks prick.  I had my fun with her as well.  Giving her some crazy statuses and changing backgrounds on her laptop to freak the fuck out of her.  Little dumb jokes…until shit got out of control.


So I come back from class and my friend is smiling and tells me to check my Facebook.  All right, another status I’ll have to erase.  Nope.  My entire facebook was changed.  Basically, this is what it said: “Interested in men; looking for a relationship; interests: gay things; fan pages: rainbows, San Francisco, etc.”  She is messing with the wrong person.  I look in my room for something interesting to get her back with.  I see Axe body spray sitting on my dresser. Since her door is open…it’s the opportune time to prank.  I stab the Axe spray and grenade-toss that shit into her room.  It does over fifty 360’s so the entire room smells like the boys’ gym locker room.  Success.

While reminiscing about how we gave our neighbors across the hall the ultimate Puerto Rican shower, my roommates and I assumed they would be too afraid to retaliate. We were wrong. During our reminisce, we heard scratching and sliding under our door. What the fuck?  A black nozzle of some sort stuck under our door.  In an instant, baby powder started filling our entire room.  It literally looked like the aftermath of Pompeii in my dorm room.  Funny? Yes, I was very impressed.  My suite-mate, who was sleeping at the time (and is a pure sicko), woke up and opened our door to confront the girls across the hall.  As he opened it, a garbage can filled with water flooded through our entire dorm room.  So two natural disasters in one prank, Pompeii and Hurricane Katrina.  My sicko suite-mate grabs his keys and his coat and looks at us.  “I’m getting supplies,” he says with a crazy grin that would make a pedophile get goosebumps.  They gave us Pompeii and Katrina, now we’re about to Hiroshima their asses.

Baby powder prank

My suite-mate arrives back at our dorm with a plethora of strange objects He takes a huge pitcher and just starts throwing random shit in it. The concoction that this crazy bastard created was literally the grossest thing I’ve ever had the pleasure (or lack there of) of smelling. Everybody in our dorm was gagging and dry heaving as this sicko created this vat of shit. Ingredients? I don’t know all of the parts to making Frankenstein’s vomit, but I saw he used ketchup, barbecue sauce, mayo, a Natty Light, Listerine, and maple syrup. That’s just a short list. We waited for them to go to sleep and then stuck a funnel under the door to their room.  We carried the pitcher of pure shit juice into the hallway and poured it into the top of the funnel. The sound this fucking concoction made when it slurped down the funnel was absolutely disturbing.  This shit covered the girls’ room and reeked of a nasty stench.

A few minutes after our Hiroshima prank, my friend’s (who I’m pranking) suite-mate comes out and starts yelling and throwing shit at our door.  There are probably about five or six guys watching out this peephole while she is yelling and throwing random shit at our door.  We’re all whispering, asking, “Should we help? Is she going to murder us? What the fuck was in that thing?”  Pretty much, the floor got cleaned and the next day was brutal…for them.  It smelt horrible and my friend said her throat was in pain since she had to use bleach to clean up the concoction.  Needless to say, the pranks stopped after that one.  We all went back to just verbally shitting on each other as opposed to doing physical pranks…for now.  Moral of the story: Don’t fuck with me and your dorm room won’t smell like diarrhea/bleach.

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