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- 03/08/2012
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
2012 - Spring - It Wasn't Me Entry
The Prankster - 1. The Prankster
I looked down at the floor before getting out of bed, like I did every morning now. I had live here on the farm as Mark’s work hand for the last month.
Since moving in with Mark a few weeks ago, I took everything at a slower pace, never knowing when Mark was going to set another trap, or play another trick on me. Besides usually hurting, they were sometimes also very embarrassing.
Like the time Mark placed cling-film under the toilet seat. I got up, all sleepy eyed, and went to pee…… use your imagination for the rest. I took a second shower just moments after the first.
This house and land outside was booby-trapped. Trip wires were everywhere, and Mark was too clever to use the same place twice. Heavy duty fishing wire was his ammunition of choice.
Today, I get out of bed carefully, because once, I stepped out into a dozen set mouse traps, setting them all off with my feet. That was painful, but it was hilariously funny for Mark.
The more I swore and cursed at him, the harder he laughed. It was infectious and soon I was laughing as hard as he was.
With Mark it was always something. Salt in the sugar bowl or vinegar instead of black tea. The vinegar was a non-brewed condiment so it had no smell. That was one of the worst. I had sprayed the acid, foul tasting liquid into the sink, but not until I had taken a huge mouthful and swallowed half of it.
I even tried to get him back, the odd time, but the next prank was always more painful or embarrassing than the last. Revenge was something that was NOT allowed, or Mark kicked up his tricks a notch.
I am twenty eight, single and straight. So this next prank really hit home.
One time I was in town, in a supermarket and Mark rang me. He quickly said to put him on speaker, and I stupidly did. Within moments I heard him call out, “Keep this man away from the women’s underwear department!!” I wished the ground would open up and swallow me at that moment. The supermarket was packed full of people, and I was walking past the clothes section at that very moment.
Several dirty looks were shot in my direction before I hastily got away. I didn’t care where I was as long as I wasn’t there. A few minutes later Mark called me back. All I could hear was loud laughing, and coughing as he tried to speak but he couldn’t. I left the store empty handed, speed walking back to my car.
So many tricks, pranks, and side splitting jokes, so, why would I want to work anywhere else?
All of this, Mark had learned from old farmer Sam. The tales the old man told, of his own pranks and tricks on his friends and workers, they were hard to believe, but watching Mark laugh at each lengthy tale, was the one good thing about it.
Mark needed to laugh more. There was only one other person who could make Mark laugh like that. When Mark laughed he would throw his head back and laugh loudly, heartily. With tears rolling down his cheeks .And then coughing because he was laughing so hard, he couldn’t breathe.
What other tricks has Mark pulled?
Scaring Lukey half to death was a good one. I had chuckled at that one myself. Lukey had been getting ready for bed in the annex. Mark had sneaked around the house to the open window. The curtains closed, and the light on, Mark had leaned right in and screamed loud and piercing. Lukey had jumped a full foot from the floor as his hair stood on end, while he trembled screaming himself. The air was blue from the many expletives Lukey had used. Mark laughed so hard he made himself almost vomit as he gasped for air, holding his sides.
There had also been exploding sweets, the occasional fake turd, and the nauseating smell of a fart bomb going off. It was so bad that it would make you wretch. It is hard to believe with all this, how much I love my job.
One of Mark’s favourite pranks was rose hips, squashed up and buried down in your clothes to make you itch uncontrollably. The tiny hair filled fruit gave me an awful rash as well as needing several showers in a row to get rid of every little hair.
You think that’s the best Mark has up his conniving sleeves? Nope, he has more!
Last winter he made an ice slide, hidden under a fluttering of snow. I placed just one foot on it. And I slid the rest of the way, to fall heavily on my backside. I had got him back with that one, but I soon suffered the consequences when I bit into a special scone, innocently placed with other scones, but this one wasn’t soft and sweet like the others. This one was as hard as a rock. I almost broke a tooth as I held my mouth, howling in pain.
Other times, like when the head of my axe came flying off, just as I lifted it high, before swinging it down on to a log, or when a letter from some big company arrived saying that I had won several thousands of pounds. I had spent that money in my head before finding out it was a great big dud, courtesy of Mark.
Of all of Mark’s wild pranks, my favourite would have to be the hundreds of Hand written letters, sent to my home address. They were from women and men asking for sex with me, and questions about how much I charge for this or that particular sex act. What an eye opener that was.
To be fair, where I am from, I’m notoriously known as the “porn king of the moors.” I provided the whole community with whatever genre of porn videos that they want. I make sure it’s all legal too. . So I probably deserved the sex letter prank.
Thinking about my unusual life here on the farm, I sat up and pushed my feet into my waiting slippers, and walked into the en-suite bathroom where everything looked safe. I glanced at myself in the mirror and then went to do a pee. Crossing to the shower, and making sure it was warm before stepping under the water, I closed my eyes tightly to avoid getting soap in them. I happily sang as I washed myself.
I knew Mark could hear me through the thin stud wall. The annex had originally been a part of the room he sat in, working at his desk. Mark didn’t like my singing. I could hardly blame him. I was far from being any good, but I still liked to do it anyways.
I rinsed off and then wrapped the towel around me before padding to the sink to shave and brush my teeth. All that was soon forgotten as I looked at myself in the mirror... my hair was blue! Not just any blue, this was bright almost a shocking ice blue.
That’s not all, the air turned blue as I roared, “Marky you bastard!!!”
What response did I get from my evil prankster? Oh I’m sure you can guess. Hilarious laughter from the next room followed by Mark’s unmistakable cough, “But……but Baz, it wasn’t me!”
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
2012 - Spring - It Wasn't Me Entry
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