The Stank Prank

Smells Like Temp Spirit

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For all my fondness for fart jokes, I'm not all that taken with actual farts themselves.  I wouldn't dream of deliberately passing the anal winds in the company of others, and I don't really appreciate it when others do unless I'm wearing a Canadian-made C-3 M69 Gas Mask and I'm locked safely in a Perry SIGMA Monoplace Hyperbaric Chamber, which is only the case about once every two weeks.

This is one of the drawbacks of working in an office trailer with a bunch of engineers and construction workers.  There's a real juvenile sense of humor about the place, and with just a single engineer being a woman, the grab-assing, profanity, and scatological references go more or less unchecked.  I'm fine with low-brow jokes, and the constant profanity in the workplace is refreshing after the sort of muted, button-down offices I've worked in previously.  But I draw the line at farting.  Sure, the occasional squeaker is one thing, and I've let my share of SBDs creep into the air when people were at a safe distance.  But what I'm dealing with now, unrestricted gas attacks that strain the boundaries of the Geneva Convention, are really starting to get to me.

My coworker, to whom I will designate the moniker "B", is an estimator.   Good guy, wicked smart, aggressive, energetic, and the biggest instigator of office horseplay.  Our typical morning exchange goes something like this:

B:  "Where's my coffee, bitch?"

Me:  "Fuck you, douche-bag."

B also has a particular flair for farting.  Not just letting one rip in his office, but going into someone else's office, walking into a crowd of people talking, or, worst of all, coming right up to my desk and blasting a juicy one.  And I mean juicy.  The kind where you figure he's gonna have to change his pants afterwards, or possibly dispose of them for good.  The smell?  Bad.  Awful.  We flee.  We have to.  Something died up inside that boy.

A few months ago, B's brother, "D", came to work in our trailer.  They don't look much alike, but something definitely runs in their family, because they share the same deadly gas, and they aren't shy about sharing it with everyone else.  They even started tag-team farting.  They'd walk together into someone's office, and two simultaneous explosions were heard, then felt, then smelt.  They were out of control.

I decided it was time someone nailed them, and good.  They share an office, and I figure I can easily prank them both in one fell swoop.  But how?

The Plan

Obviously, I want to call attention to their odors.  If they just had B.O., or were flatulent in general, or unhygienic, I wouldn't do anything but wince and bear it.  But they're stinking on purpose, so I figure two can play at that game.  Of course, two are already playing at that game, but maybe three can, too.

I decide to fill their office with a stench of a different name: air fresheners.  I picture them coming in to work one morning, finding a forest of dangling auto fresheners, the ones that look like little pine trees.  That'll get my message across.

Of course, there are all sorts of air fresheners for sale, and I think it will be good to have a nice mix of them, possibly several different scents all intermingling with each other.  I can sneak into the office trailer late one night, hang, stick, and hide air fresheners all over their office, and give them a nice stinky surprise when they arrive the following morning.

I've already started buying stuff when it's announced that D is being transferred to a different jobsite, and this will be his last week in our trailer.  He's being replaced by someone new, so I have to put my plan into action as soon as I can.  I decide that Thursday night was the night to strike.  I could get D on his last day of work, a nice little send-off for him to remember me by.  Plus, I'm thinking with all the stuff I'm buying, their office is really going to reek on Friday.  Might not be a bad idea for them to suffer for just the one day before the weekend, allowing the smell to subside over Saturday and Sunday.

I'm all set.  Thursday is the night.  My plan will hopefully go off without a hitch.

The Hitch

Damn.  I'm foiled before I even begin!  D told me his last day was Friday, and he'd be taking Thursday off to babysit his daughter.  But when I arrive Thursday morning, D is there.  I ask him as innocently as possible if he got a baby sitter, and he tells me his schedule changed, and that today, Thursday, is his last day, and he'll be taking Friday off to babysit.

Well, hell.  Now what?  There's no way I can prank him now, and if I want to do it at all, it has to be tonight, since a new employee will be moving into B and D's office on Monday, and I don't want to kick him in the nose on his first day.

I guess I'll just have to settle for pranking B, and letting D get away, which is a damn shame.  Ah, well.  The best laid plans of mice and men, I guess.  Though frankly, how well-laid are the plans of mice, anyway?  Eat some cheese, poop, and grow a human ear on your back.  It's pretty uncomplicated.

It's on.  Though one of my quarry has gotten away clean, I'm still planning the hit.  Tonight, I prank.

The Ammo

I get home from work Thursday afternoon, and begin prepping all the stuff I've bought and acquired over the past few days.

Three to a pack, but each pack of these pink beauties costs over two dollars.  Damn.  I couldn't really afford to have an entire forest of trees, but at least I could spread them around a bit, and with D evading my grasp like star systems through Moff Tarkin's fingers, I'll have twice as much stuff to plant around B's desk.

 

By the way, never, ever, EVER put one of these strawberry air fresheners in your car.  They are the most repulsive things I've ever smelled.  The scent is completely unnatural and overwhelming. It smells like My Little Pony took an enormous dump after eating and partially digesting Strawberry Shortcake.

Mmm, pine fresh!  I thought pine trees had needles, but whatever!  These aren't as offensive as the Pink Bunkadoo up there, but they're still very strong and cloying.

 I guess these are supposed to smell heavenly?  They smell like a grandmother's shawl.  Light, powdery, but with a undeniable hint of death.  Plus, it'll be fun for this big, burly, manly man to find some powder blue fresheners hanging from his ceiling.  Among other places.

All in all, I have twenty-four auto air fresheners to hang.  It's gonna be a busy night!

These Air Wicks have a little square of adhesive on the backs, perfect for sticking and hiding at home, work, or on the go!  Strong and oily smelling.  I bought two packs.  Again, now that a single desk is my target, they'll go a long way.

I bought one Plug-In for each of their powerstrips, so I'll hopefully have room on B's for both.  Very smelly once they heat up.  The scent is called Rainshower, and it's delightfully soapy smelling.

Now we're cooking with gas!  These little beauties were shipped to me by my friend Sean (no stranger to pranks himself), who works for the company that makes them.  I open one at home to see what they're like, and holy crap, they stink to high heaven.  I can't even really describe the smell, but it's got all the subtlety of Clorox bleach.  The back of the box is covered with warnings about how they will ruin certain surfaces if placed on them.  Powerful, powerful smell.

Best of all, I have an even dozen to distribute, enough to wipe out a neighborhood of Kurds.  Thanks, Sean!

Finally, my secret weapon: apple cinnamon potpourri.  I'm not sure what I'll do with this, but I'm betting something will come to me.

I cut lengths of string and tie them to the auto fresheners but leave everything else in its packaging (besides the one No Funk) as to not pollute my own home.  Even still, it reeks in here.  When Kris gets home from work her nose immediately wrinkles.  "You just smell... offensive!" is how she puts it, and then she genuinely gags.  I have to admit, the fruity strawberry fresheners are mingling with the napalm-like intensity of the No Funks, and the lemon, angel, and pine are battling it out for supremacy in my nose.  It's nasty and wonderful and sickly sweet.

8:30pm rolls around, and it's time to go hang some stank!

Hoo-hah!  There hasn't been a sack of stink this big since they zipped up Marlon Brando's body bag.  I'm ready to roll... the windows down in my car.

The Prank

Here's B's office, pre-prank.

I start by hanging a few fresheners from the edge of the fluorescent light over his desk.  The trailer is muggy, it's not easy standing on a rolling chair and getting pink yarn through these little holes in the metal brackets in the ceiling, and I'm already a bit sweaty just hanging these few.  I'm also a bit nervous.  When I drove up, the front gate was open (which was good, I was afraid I'd have to scale the fence) and there were lights on in one of the other office trailers.  That's not so good.  I'm taking flash pictures in here at night after hours, and I don't want some observer thinking the office is being sabotaged or that information is being stolen.

Ah, screw it!  Everyone should get arrested at least once in their life, right?

I tie this one under his chair.

I kind of want it to pop out and dangle when he sits down, hopefully while everyone is watching, so I gently tuck it up under the chair:

And speaking of rigging...

B hangs his hardhat and goggles on his wall, like so.  He doesn't go out onto the construction site every day, but probably at least once or twice a week.  I figure if I stash some stuff in and behind his helmet, he might not find it right away.

First, a little stick-on behind where his helmet hangs.

I'm hoping this angel air freshener won't be discovered until the next time he uses his hard hat.  He'll grab it off the wall and it'll swing down.  Sweet!  The prank that keeps on pranking.

I go back to the auto air fresheners.  I'm still rushing around in the humid trailer, sweating my ass off, and the stink from this stuff is getting all over me.  A tiny white flag pops out of my nose and waves vigorously: my nose buds are throwing in the towel.  Quitters!  I'm not even close to being done yet.

A few more hangers.

One on the inside of his door, mainly because it's a lot easier than hanging it from the ceiling.  Plus, he may not see it for a while.

And on the drawer of his desk, and one on another drawer on the other side.  Both pine.

Hmmm... still haven't used my secret weapon.  Stinky as hell, but where to put it?

Ah-ha!

There we go, a nice coffee cup full 'o potpourri.  There's your coffee, bitch!  It adds a nice splash of color, I think.

Back to the hanging!  I've got about a dozen up over his desk, forming a nice, 3-sided box right around his chair.

Christ, how much of this stuff did I buy?  I feel like Bartholomew Cubbins with all the Oobleck.  No matter how much I hang or stick, I still have a huge pile at my feet.  I smack a stick-on inside his bottom desk drawer, where he keeps his dip and his allergy medicine, the latter of which I have a feeling he'll need tomorrow.

This is the underside of his desk.

Also under his desk, the Plug-In, complete with night light.  Cozy!

Time for the No Funks!  I've got a dozen, so I unpack them all.  The stench is simply overwhelming.  It's like snorting a few lines of granulated laundry detergent.

Hey, kids!  How many stinky things can you find in this picture?  We've got the No Funk behind the phone, a Air Wick on the empty Post-It holder, and potpourri in the pencil compartment.  I'm nothing if not thorough.

I hang the last few auto fresheners.  Now they extend from the front of his desk all the way to the door, forming a sort of tunnel for him to walk into in the morning.

This is the view standing at the office door.  It's exactly what he'll see when he shows up in the morning.  Which reminds me, I'm planning on closing the door before I leave, to avoid stinking up the rest of the trailer too badly.  Maybe I should leave a little hint of what's to come.

There we go!  I shut the door and tie a single pine freshener to the outside handle.  Maybe this'll get a chuckle from him before he opens the door and steps in to see the fragrant hell that awaits.

I'm done!  Time to shut the lights off, lock up, dash home and shower, because after all the running around the office I smell like a Frenchman.  And after handling all those fruity air fresheners, I smell like a Frenchman gigolo who spent a weekend servicing the Care Bears.

I smell, my car smells, and the house smells when I get home.  Makes me wonder just how foul it's going to smell in B's office with all of that stuff unwrapped in the closed office in the humid trailer.  Gosh.  Hope I didn't overdo it.

The Pranked

I arrive to work a little after 7:00am Friday morning, take a deep breath, and step into the trailer.  B usually comes in around six, so I figure he's had time to have a good laugh and enjoy the stench.  Hopefully there were a few people around when he walked into to his office.

I go to my desk, drop my bag, and look around.  The place is dead quiet, but people are in their offices.  I peek into B's, and I see him in his chair, hunched over his laptop, his back to me.

Everything is gone.  All the stuff I hung, stuck, and planted in his office is gone, except for a single pink piece of string dangling from the bottom of his chair, from the pine freshener I had rigged to pop out when he sat down.  I don't know if it worked as planned: the freshener is gone, only the frayed string remains.  There's absolutely no other evidence I was even here last night.  Well, except for that fact that the trailer is absolutely pungent.  It smells like a team of clowns made sweaty, passionate, frenzied love to a horny grandmother on a bed of strawberries and pine needles.  The smell is thick, heavy, and absolutely sickening.  Cool!

I go and sit down, pretend to work, and wait.  For something.  For anything.  No one is smiling, no one is ribbing B, and he hasn't charged out of his office to accuse me or possibly beat my head in.

This sucks.  What the hell happened?  As best as I can figure, he didn't find it remotely funny.  But still, a few people have walked by or asked me work-related questions, and even B came out to drop some paperwork on my desk.  And no one has said anything!  What the hell is going on?

A torturous hour and a half pass.  Then, finally:

The Twist

"M", one of our foremen, goes in to talk to B.  M is laughing a little bit, B is not, and I can't hear what they're saying.  M leaves B's office a few moments later, trying to hide a smile.  Then he comes over to me.

"Did you hear what happened?" he whispers.

"No," I say, "What?"

"You didn't hear what D did to B's office?"

What D did to B's office?  D!  B's brother D!  He's taking the rap for it!

M explains the prank to me as I pretend to be shocked and surprised.  M was actually the first one in, and saw all the stuff, followed by K, one of the other foremen, who also saw everything before B arrived.  At least there were witnesses.

B calls M into his office.  I hear him dialing a phone on speaker.  They're calling D!  And I'll be able to hear it from where I'm sitting.

D is not awake when they call, as it's his day off.  "Muggh?" he says.

"You think you're pretty funny, huh," B tells his brother.

"What?"

"Think you're funny?"  

"Huh?"

"Did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Swear to God you didn't do it?"

"Do what?"

"Swear to God."

"I'm not swearing to God."

"You did it!"

"Did what?"

It goes on like this.  B is convinced his brother did it, and D is barely denying it, mainly because he doesn't know what it is he supposedly has done, and therefore doesn't want to swear he didn't do it.  And I'm sitting out at my desk, enjoying the whole thing.

It makes sense, in a way.  D's last day was yesterday, and as it turns out, he was the last one here last night.  In fact, he left barely a hour before I snuck in with my stink sack.  Perfect.

After the call, a few hours pass.  Everyone is convinced D did the prank, which is fine with me.  I'm also thrilled D got woken up on his day off and accused of committing the prank, so I consider both of my original targets gotten.  It was a complete success.

The New Twist

 A little later, B calls his brother again to give him some shit.  I hear B's side of the conversation only, which mainly consists of "Swear to God.  Swear to God you didn't do it.  Swear to God."

A few seconds later, B hangs up and screams "Son of a bitch!" and races out of his office.

And into the office of K, one of the other foremen.

He slams K into the wall.  And accuses him of pulling the prank.

"I had nothing to do with it," K says, sounding like he had everything to do with it.  Seriously, I've never heard a worse denial in my life.  He laughs and looks away every time B accuses him.  It's the worst performance I've ever seen, and he's completely innocent.

I'm enjoying it.  "Did you do it?" M asks K.

"No," K says, "But I'm enjoying B's confusion so much, I don't care that he thinks I did it."

"You totally did it," M says.

K just laughs.

Hours pass, as K continues to half-heartedly deny any involvement, and B and M compile a list of evidence that prove K is guilty.  He admits going to Long's Drugs the night before.  He admits being in the general neighborhood the night before.  He even said, just yesterday, that he was going to get D back for all his farting.  It couldn't be any more perfect.

At one point during the day, M and B are questioning K, and K turns and points to me.

"Chris did it," he says.

Everyone laughs.  No one has even considered the possibility that it could have been me, which I'm finding slightly insulting but mostly amusing.  In fact, the day is just about over, and I'm considering just letting K take the fall.  The way I figure it, if everyone thinks K did it, I can hit K's desk with some other prank next week, and everyone will think it was B getting revenge.  I'll have free reign.  I'll be able to prank whoever I want, whenever I want.  I could even prank my own desk to make it look like I'm just another victim.

Then again, that's a whole lotta work, and I have no beef with K, since he never beefs on me.  I decide to come clean, but by this point, M has left for the day, K is packing up to go, and things have generally settled down.  Seems almost anticlimactic to just announce I did it.  So, I decide to compose an e-mail, and then send it just before I leave for the weekend, so by the time they read it I'll be gone.  Hey, if they're gonna spend the entire day overlooking me, underestimating me, then screw them.  I've been a ghost throughout this whole thing, I gotta end it on the same note. 

Now, for you internet-savvy folks, this bit has been done to death online, but I figure with these non-geeks, it might seem, for lack of a better term, a little more fresh.

To:  B, M, K, and D

From: Chris

Subject:  B Got Served

24 auto air fresheners:  $16.00

4 stick-on air fresheners:  $6.00

1 Glade Plug In:  $2.50

1 bag of Apple Cinnamon Potpourri:  $2.00

12 No Funk Air Fresheners:  Free (Friend shipped them to me at no charge)

Stinking up B's office with something other than his farts?  PRICELESS

I attach a dozen or so of the photos I took, send the e-mail, and go home for the weekend.

The Aftermath

Monday morning, I step into work to be handed B's unconditional surrender.  "Dude," he said, "I can't even retaliate.  You got me so good.  I give up.  I couldn't get you back without losing my job."

M congratulates me on the planning, execution and deception, K admits he really thought it was M the whole time, and even D has shown up for the morning to laugh about it.  I present B one of the No Funks still in its packaging as a souvenir.  The office, meanwhile, still smells overly fresh, but not bad at all.  The Dumpster, on the other hand, stinks like a Dumpster has never stunk before.

It's a fun time explaining when I came in and how long I'd been planning it and showing them more pictures, and B is an amazingly good sport about the whole thing.  In fact, everyone who drops by that day, be they subcontractors, vendors, foremen, or other visitors, B happily explains the whole prank to them, shows them the pictures, and again tells how he'll never be able to get me as good as I got him, and thus will never try.

I don't believe him.  Not for a second.  I know he'll retaliate someday, and if he doesn't I'll be severely disappointed.  He doesn't have the element of surprise like I did, and he'll be the first one accused, unlike myself. 

But he's gonna try something.

He's gonna make a move.

I can smell it.