Fun and Games
The Best April Fools Day Prank of All Time
A sticky situation
‘Twas the night before April Fools’ — the prankster’s Christmas Eve, if you will — and all through the town, the whisper of whoopee cushions was the only sound around. The jokesters were nestled all snug in their schemes with visions of hoaxes and hilarious dreams.
Well, every jokester except for me.
It was a cool winter night in my rural college town of Kirksville, Missouri. Situated only thirty short minutes from the border of Iowa, its position is just far north enough to be dangerous.
From the second floor of an edge-of-campus apartment that I shared with two housemates, I confirmed that the coast was clear before covertly creeping out of my room.
Securing a rectangular package firmly beneath my coat, I tip-toed my way down the stairs to the beat of the Mission Impossible theme song playing in my head — a maneuver that would undoubtedly make Ethan Hunt raise a questionable eyebrow at my unsubtle approach.
Face-to-face with the front door, I took in the silence so thick I could just catch the collective, existential meltdown of students pulling yet another all-nighter.
Gingerly twisting the door knob as if I was defusing a comically oversized bomb, I swung the door open. The frigid air hit me with the ultimate punchline, leaving me wondering if even Mother Nature got the April 1 memo.
Stepping into the open, I assumed the part of a magician gearing up for her grand reveal. With a flourish, I unveiled a thick stack of sticky notes from under my coat — move over, Houdini.
With a mischievous grin on my face, I went to town, slapping the multi-colored adhesive reminders on every nook and cranny of both of my housemates’ cars — a two-for-one comedy special. The vibrant hues of my 3 by 3 squares quickly transformed their formerly mundane vehicles into psychedelic masterpieces.
Unfortunately, my gloves soon surrendered to the midnight chill — freezing faster than an unprepared student getting called on by the professor— leaving my hands to fend for themselves.
However, with one car down, I had no choice but to press on, equipped only with determination and the world’s most ironically ineffective winter accessories.
Finally finished, I surveyed my handiwork. The once-ordinary vehicles now resembled the lovechild of a rainbow and a Jackson Pollock painting, a testament to my artistic flair and questionable decision-making skills.
Satisfied, I packed up what little was left of my sticky note arsenal and retreated to my lair. As I snuggled under my blankets, I chuckled at the thought of my housemates discovering my sticky note surprise, mentally patting myself on the back for a job that could only be described as “sticktacular.”
The next morning, the sun barely winked over the horizon as one of my nursing-major housemates, a walking zombie at 6:30 am, stumbled out of the house for his early morning clinicals.
Rubbing his eyes and yawning, he approached his usually inconspicuous sedan — complete with the classic missing door handle on the passenger side.
To his horror, the car was now immersed in a state of rainbow-induced chaos, sticky notes plastered on every inch.
His initial reaction was a mix of shock and irritation but panic quickly set in as he realized he did not have the luxury of time to peel off the sticky notes one by one. He would have to drive to the hospital in this neon mosaic.
Fumbling with his keys, he opened the car door, hesitated for a moment, then reluctantly slid into the driver’s seat. The engine roared to life, and he cruised down the quiet streets, a sea of sticky notes fluttering in the wind.
Arriving at the hospital parking lot, he couldn’t help but feel a mix of embarrassment and amusement, wondering if his patients would appreciate his unintentional artistic flair.
The resident showboat was the second housemate to stumble upon the scene. His eyes widened at the sight of his car having been transformed into a rainbow-colored wonderland. Without hesitation, he hopped in, fully embracing his new and improved sticky note chariot.
With an air of confidence, he cruised around campus, turning heads and drawing attention from every direction with his art gallery on wheels.
Later that day, both my housemates returned home in cars still covered in sticky notes.
Bursting through the door with a grin from ear to ear, the resident showboat declared, “Looks like my car just got a major upgrade! I think I might just keep it like this.”
Despite the initial shock and panic, the first housemate to stumble upon the scene now couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation.
“Well played,” he admitted, shaking his head in disbelief, “but you definitely owe me a cup of coffee to make up for this.”
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