The Great Prank War
Morning dawned cold and grey. The clouds were heavy and
dark, and the wind was blowing a bit harder than usual. Winter would be here soon.
I, however, was quite comfortable, listening
to the wind blow, and enjoying the warmth of the kitchen. My Anubis, Pan, was
asleep on a chair next to me. It was a typical day in November, and I was waiting
for my owner to come down to breakfast.
Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot to introduce myself.
My name is Chaos, and I am a handsome red Wocky with a great sense of humor.
Oddly enough, others don't always seem to think so, usually when they are on
the receiving end of one of my many practical jokes… Oh well. It's their loss.
Anyway, it was about 9:30 on a Sunday morning,
and I had just poured two cups of tea, one for my owner, and one for myself.
I added a liberal amount of lemon to mine, and reached for the sugar. The saltshaker
was still on the table from last night. My owner, Ace, likes to sprinkle a bit
of salt on her tuna jacket potatoes. Personally, I think she's a bit weird.
As I put the sugar back, a rather devilish idea crossed my mind…
A few moments later, a teenage girl appeared
in the kitchen doorway. She was still wearing pajama bottoms and an old T-shirt.
Her hair, brown streaked with a sapphire hue that is a few shades lighter than
her eyes, was tousled. Her few freckles stood out visibly against pale skin.
Ace is not a morning person.
She came to the table, rubbing sleep from her
eyes, and grunted what I took to be a morning greeting.
"Thanks," she muttered, reaching for her mug.
I watched eagerly as she stirred in a good amount the sugar bowl's contents,
and raised it to her lips.
"So, what do you feel like doing-"
Tea sprayed over the table. Ace rushed to the
sink for water to rinse her mouth. After gulping down two glasses, she turned
"What did you DO to it?" she demanded, now wide-awake.
"I thought you liked salt," I said innocently,
though I couldn't help but grin.
She shook her head. "Oh, mister, you are so
asking for it."
At this point I should stop and explain. Most
owners wouldn't retaliate. They'd probably just fume for a week or so, and then
be over it. But Ace isn't like most owners. To her, this was a challenge, one
she was not going to back down from. And so it began.
* * *
The rest of the morning passed uneventfully.
After rereading "The Macho Kyrii" for the third time, I decided that I could
use some exercise. I went downstairs to find Pan sitting near the front door.
I guess he had the same idea.
"Ace," I called, "I'm going to take Pan out for
"Fine," came her reply from the living room.
"Just don't track mud all over the house when you come back."
"Mud…?" I looked out the window. Rain was pouring
down, streaking the windowpanes. I sighed. As much as I loved the rain, I hated
the boots I had to wear. Of course, the alternative of not wearing them was
worse. Have you ever tried to get mud out of your fur? If not, let me tell you,
it's a real pain.
I sat down on the chair by the coat rack, and
pulled on the much-hated Wellington boots. When I stood to get Pan's leash,
I knew instantly that something was amiss. I took a step forward. Something
inside my boots squished.
I sat down and wrenched my left boot off as quickly
as possible. It had been filled with homemade gooseberry jam. I pulled the right
one off. Marmalade.
"Ace!" I yelled, extremely ticked off.
She came into the entryway, now in jeans and
a blue Marbleman T-shirt, and leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over
"Something the matter?" she asked, her tone innocent.
"That's it," I snapped. "This means war!"
I got up and stalked off to take a bath, leaving
jelly footprints in my wake.
* * *
Ten minutes later, I sat in a hot bath, muttering
angrily to myself as I scrubbed. "I have to get her back for this. I'm not going
to take this lying down! No, sir. She's going to regret ever teaching me about
pranks in the first place."
I squeezed some Rain Water Shampoo into my palm
and began to lather up. Or tried to, anyway. The shampoo didn't get foamy the
way it should have. Instead, it just felt sticky.
"Wait a minute…"
I picked up the shampoo bottle and sniffed. It
didn't have its usual smell, like pine trees and rain washed air, with a hint
of normal soap. Instead it smelled like… Honey.
* * *
I spent the afternoon planning, and by the time
Ace called me down for dinner, I had a half dozen ideas just about worked out.
As I stepped off the bottom step, the smell of minestrone soup wafted under
my nose. My stomach growled. Making evil plans all day sure can make a guy hungry.
"Chaos, come on!" Ace called from the kitchen.
"Get it while it's hot!"
You have no idea, I thought to myself
as I walked into the kitchen and helped set the table.
Ace ladled soup into two bowls while I fed Pan.
When she turned around to pour glasses of milk, I slipped a couple chunks of
chopped up Flaming Burnumup into her bowl. We sat down and began to eat in silence.
After a few minutes I stopped and frowned. Ace didn't appear to notice anything
wrong with the taste of her soup. I thought hard, trying to remember if she
had ever mentioned liking particularly spicy foods. Absently, I took a large
spoonful of soup. Suddenly, my tongue began to burn. My mouth felt as though
it had caught on fire!
I dashed to the sink for water to extinguish
the flames. When I turned around, Ace was looking at me, her eyes sparkling
"Let your guard down, didn't you?"
I went back to my room, planning all the way.
* * *
Monday Ace woke up to find her shoes glued to
the floor. That night when I went to go to sleep, I discovered my bed had been
Tuesday afternoon, Ace reached for the doorknob
to the bathroom, only to find that someone had covered it in peanut butter.
Later that day, my friend came over to listen to my new Moehawk CD, but when
I put it on, we were both horrified to hear the "Greatest Hits of 2 Gallon Hatz."
Ugh, I hate country music.
Wednesday about fifteen Neomails came for Ace,
about the paintbrush she was "giving away." Apparently, someone had posted a
notice on the message board saying she had one she wanted to get rid of.
Thursday, I was woke up with shaving cream all
over my face, and Ace walked into her room to have a bucket of cold oatmeal
up ended over her head.
Friday morning, I rose early and cautiously
went downstairs. I fixed breakfast for myself, slowly opening cabinets and carefully
examining my food before beginning to eat, to be sure there were no booby traps
waiting for me.
I had almost finished my bowl of Corn Crunchies
when I heard a yell of alarm from upstairs. Not a scream mind you, but a yell.
Ace never screams like a normal girl. See, I told you she was weird. Anyway,
judging from the distress in her voice, I guessed she had found my little surprise.
I went up the stairs, down the hall, and triumphantly
walked into Ace's room with Pan following at my heels. Ace was standing in the
middle of the bedroom, open mouthed in shock. I couldn't blame her. Her normal
Zen themed furniture had been replaced with items all of the same shocking pink.
On the floor where her cream rug usually lay
there were several round pink ones. Her mostly finished Economics homework lay
on top of a pink vanity desk, a pink sparkly brush off to one side. Under a
heart shaped stained glass window was a large pile of pretty pink pillows. Even
the walls were plastered with pink Usukicon posters. I went over to where her
Zen Drawer used to stand, and opened the pink painted wooden drawer to reveal
the final touch.
All of her normal clothes were gone. The blue
and yellow marbleman t-shirts, the plain white ones, her favorite 'I love the
Neopian Times' T-shirt, and her blue jeans were missing. Instead, there was
a single pink T-shirt and a pink skirt.
I grinned wickedly as Ace backed away in horror.
Her mouth moved soundlessly. Finally she spoke.
I paused, considering this offer. Sure, I was
ahead in points at the moment, but that could change. And how could I outdo
myself after this?
Slowly, I nodded. "I guess we should stop while
the house is still standing."
Ace sagged against the wall in relief. "I'm glad
that's over. Now, where is my furniture? I'm not even going to ask where all
of this came from."
"Yeah, you probably shouldn't. Anyway, your stuff
is safe. It's in the attic."
"Yeah, in the box that says 'whoopee cushions.'"
"Good." She straightened. "I'm going to take
a shower. And when I'm done, you get to help me move all my stuff back into
"Aww, Ace…" I protested as she walked out of
the room. With a sigh, I went up to where I had hidden the box of her clothes.
She would need something to wear later. I found the box concealed behind a crate
of what Ace was convinced were possessed lawn gnomes, picked it up, and was
halfway down the stairs when a thought struck me.
"I wonder if Ace ever took the honey out of the
Just then, a dismayed cry came from the bathroom.
"Oh, not again!"
I grinned. Revenge is sweet.
Author's Note: I take absolutely no responsibility for the consequences
of anyone performing any of the above-mentioned pranks. They are for reading
enjoyment only. Now if you will excuse me, I have to go before my parents find
out who turned all of the furniture upside down…