How to Pull Off the Greatest Prank Ever

Setting: Road trip to Las Vegas for Lady's Birthday Weekend Extravaganza

Location: About 50 yards off random frontage road in the desert

Coordinators: Bone Junior and Gina

Materials Needed:
- Flashlight
- Shovel
- Gloves
- Black trash bag
- Duct tape
- Metal detector
- Elvis torso
- Two friends from Philadelphia (Lady and Fred) who have never seen the actual desert, and who want to go treasure hunting

Prep Time: About thirty minutes.

Actual Prank Time: About ten minutes, plus drive time.

Payoff: Priceless

Phase One: The Setup

1. Strap in creepy Elvis torso for the ride.

2. Drive towards Vegas.

3. About ten miles outside the strip, choose a random frontage exit that looks remote enough to make it feel like you're actually in the desert, but not so remote that you feel like you might actually get chopped up and buried out there.

4. Make ready the materials.



5. Put Elvis in the trash bag.

6. Wrap duct tape around his neck and torso.
7. Rip a hole in the top of the trash bag and pull some of Elvis' hair through it.


8. Stumble through broken glass, tumbleweeds, and pricker bushes, testing the ground with the shovel, until you find a suitable spot to dig.

9. Start digging until you hit bedrock about two inches down, then move to another spot.

10. Repeat steps 8-9.

11. Finally resort to more or less covering Elvis with rocks and dirt, convincing yourself that it totally blends in with the rest of the desert. And it kind of does.

12. Test the metal detector to make sure you can find Elvis again.

Phase Two: The Build Up

1. Spend the next two days talking to Fred and Lady about how much fun it will be to go treasure hunting in the desert.

2. Continue insisting that it really will be fun.

3. Seriously Fred, I don't care how tired you are, we're going out to the freaking desert.

4. Don't take no for an answer.


Phase Three: The Payoff

1. Drive back to random frontage exit that looks remote enough to make it feel like you're actually in the desert, but not so remote that you feel like you might actually get chopped up and buried out there.

2. Spend a few minutes nonchalantly moseying around, waving the metal detector around in the manner of a treasure hunter.

3. Gradually nonchalantly mosey your way over to the burial site.

4. When the metal detector starts going crazy, jump around excitedly and insist that Fred start digging.

5. Maniacally giggle to yourself as Fred jumps on board, shouting, "This could really BE something!"

6. As Fred uncovers a garbage bag and tuft of hair, start to freak out. Also, start filming.

7. Continue to freak out as more of the torso gets unearthed. Then start to feel bad / laugh when Lady starts to really freak out- pacing nervously and declaring, "WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW! WE ARE GOING TO GET MURDERED! LOOK AT MY EYE! LOOK AT MY NERVOUS EYE! MY NERVOUS EYE IS WATERING! WE NEED TO LEAVE RIGHT NOW!"

8. Laugh so hard that you start crying when Lady and Fred slowly start to realize that this is not, in fact, an actual dead body.

9. Apologize profusely to Lady, who is still shaking like a leaf. But don't really be sorry, because you just pulled off The Greatest Prank Ever. And you have the video to prove it.

How Bone Does Classy

Last Thursday was Tiff's birthday. (Tiff is my gorgeous roommate, and she asked me to make up a fake name for her on my blog, but the only thing I can think of is Fitt, and that makes it sound like she has palsy or something, so sorry Tiff, we're sticking with Tiff.)

So, last Thursday was Tiff's birthday, and one of her other friends was hosting a dinner party on Friday. We'll call this other friend "The Hostess". Friday morning, I called The Hostess and asked her if there was anything she needed me to bring. She listed off a few items, no big deal, and then, almost as an after-thought, she said, "Oh, and can you bring a classy centerpiece as well?"

Pause.

Me: "Um, could you be more specific?" Read: Have we ever met and do you realize that my idea of a classy centerpiece is an Oscar cake that always has the potential to come out looking like a penis?

Hostess: "Well, some type of centerpiece for the table. Maybe a hanging balloon chandelier? The colors are green and whhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhite..."

Me: "Oh. Ok. Um. When you say 'hanging balloon chandelier'.....?" Read: Seriously, have we met?

Hostess: "You know, with fancy balloons."

Pause.

Me: "Fancy balloons?" Read: Like the huge mylar ones shaped like animals?

Hostess: "Right, like the really metallic, shiny, fancy balloons."

By this time, I'm picturing the balloons that were in my senior prom photo backdrop.

Me: "And there is a color scheme? How fancy IS this dinner?" Read: Because seriously, if you're expecting me to wear a dress, you are sorely mistaken.

Hostess: "Yes, the colors are green and whhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhite. Like a granny-smith-apple green."

Me: "Great. Ok. Sounds good." Read: All I heard was 'granny smith apple', so that's what you're getting.

At this point, I dialed Bone Senior in a panic and shouted at her, "WHAT THE HECK IS A HANGING BALLOON CHANDELIER!" and I felt much better when she'd never heard of one either.

She suggested that I get a wide vase and fill it with granny smith apples. And then my mind began to wander to a wonderous place. A wonderous place filled with green apples and marshmallows.

And that's exactly the kind of classy centerpiece The Hostess got. I wish I'd taken a picture of her face when I showed up with it. Actually, I wish I'd taken a picture of a LOT of her facial expressions aimed at me that night, but we'll get to that in a minute.

Back to the classy centerpiece. I told The Hostess that it was 'agriculture chic', and pointed out that it was, in fact, completely in line with the color scheme. But she didn't seem amused.

I went out to the back patio and proudly put my centerpiece at the center of the fancy table. I stood back to admire my work, then went back inside to await Tiff's arrival.


The beautiful table spread.

What's that? You don't see the classy centerpiece I made?



Can you see it now? No? Oh wait.
















Maybe you can't see it because when I went inside, The Hostess went outside, and banished my centerpiece to the table that would be used for our dirty dishes.







I was not happy.

As the dinner preparations went on, I became even more unhappy. Particularly because everything that The Hostess asked me to help with, I didn't know how to do. Such as make whipping cream. (Shut up, I KNOW, ok?!) I thought all you had to do was whip it. When I asked The Hostess to confirm this and confessed to her that I'd never made whipped cream before, I swear her jaw hit the counter.

The blender and whipping cream were promptly taken away from me and given to someone more capable. And The Hostess gave me a new job.

"How about you go over there and keep an eye on the rice?" she politely asked. Note: the rice was cooking in a rice cooker.

"Ok, do I have to stir it or anything?" Read: I meant this as a serious question, because if I've never made whipped cream, what makes you think I've ever used a rice cooker?

"Nope, just keep an eye on it. It will shut off by itself when it's done, then you can just scoop it into this container."

"Um. Ok." Read: Just because I don't know how to make whipped cream, doesn't mean that I can't recognize a bullshit job when I'm given one.

Seriously? Keep an eye on this rice cooker that will shut itself off and you don't have to do anything except literally STAND HERE AND WATCH IT? I know that I don't know how to cook, but even I'm not dumb enough to think that watching a rice cooker is meaningful or helpful in any way.
So that's what I did. I literally watched the rice cooker.


And watched it some more.

Thank goodness Tiff showed up. Goodness knows what might have happened if I hadn't kept an eye on the rice. The whole night might have been ruined.

And she appreciated my center piece. And in all the group photos, I insisted on holding the center piece in front of me. Yes, I really did.

That's just what you get when you put me in charge of something "classy."