Monday, 23 April 2012

Hotel Hotbox

So the commotion finally died down from the fart spray but none of us were ready to call it a night. Still amped up from the success of our prank we were wide awake. Hell, even Mr. Goodie-two-shoes Jesus was all fired up. Well until he started coughing.

Did I mention that the other three of us smoked? Um, yeah, I know I did. Well my buddy Jim and I had always loved the smell of pipe tobacco. Walking by the tobacco shop in the mall we always said we were gonna buy a couple of pipes and try it out some time, and this trip seemed like the perfect opportunity.

Jim, Brian and I had already been smoking but just cigarettes until now. We had our hotel room closed up tight. No windows open, the door closed with a towel in front of it. Our hope.....not to make it too easy for the fucking chaperons to figure out we were smoking and bust our asses. Jesus was under control, and after the earlier prank he seemed to have relaxed a little. But now was time for the pipes. Brian had no interest, and of course, neither did Jesus. So Jim and I packed our pipes full of tobacco and lit them up. I can only imaging how we.......looked like total dumb-asses. I mean really???? Who the fuck thinks tobacco pipes are cool?

What the hell, we were having fun. The damn pipes were totally hotboxing the room. Jesus was coughing his lungs out and the whole room was thick with smoke. Jesus had crawled under the covers of his bed. Now in his boxers and t-shirt I don't think he planned on surfacing until sun-up. Ten or fifteen minutes later you couldn't even see the TV through the smoke, just the light from whatever was on. That's when it happened. That ear-piercing sound that everyone hates, but knows what it is. Pulsing.....high pitched.....FUCK!!!! IT'S THE FIRE ALARM!!!!!!! Brian bolts for the bathroom, turning on the fan to try and suck out smoke. Me and Jim are on the beds trying to fan the smoke away from the detector with pillows to silence the thing, and Jesus........OH FUCK!!!! Jesus bolted from the bed when the alarm started going off and was now at the door, trying desperately to unlock it. And yes, he was in full freak-out.

"Dude!!! What are you doing??????" I shouted.
"It's the alarm, we have to evacuate!" came the reply from Jesus
"Dude, don't! You're gonna get us all busted." I said

Jim got the alarm to stop and was still fanning it with a pillow. Brian was now coming out of the bathroom and moving towards Jesus. Both of us realized that an intervention was going to be necessary, and stopping 300 lb. Jesus was gonna take both of us at the very least.

CLICK! Jesus managed to release the deadbolt, his final obstacle to opening the door. Brian and I lunged to tackle him as he swung the door open, heading onto the outside hallway. If we hadn't been the cause of it, the though of seeing a panicking 300 lb. dude in nothing but boxers and a too small shirt screaming and running through a hotel would have been a sight to see. But not this time. Brian manages to grab one of his arms and I got a solid choke hold around his neck. As we're wrestling him back inside the room I'm thinking about how bad this looks. Two dudes jumping on a 300 lb. nearly naked dude, and wrestling him into a hotel room while he's screaming..... "HEEEELLLLLLPPPP!"

Fuck! Glad no one caught that on film.

After about 30 minutes and several threats on his life, Jesus finally calmed down and agreed not to try and bolt for the door. After about an hour the room cleared. We stayed up almost all night freaking out thinking we were going to hear a knock on the door from the fire department or police, but it never came

The next morning all four of us tried to act like nothing happened the night before. But after seeing the look in our band director's eyes I knew we had been caught. We kept waiting to get pulled aside, yelled at, even forced to call our parents....but nothing like that ever happened. Maybe we were lucky. Maybe she was on watch when all this shit rolled out and she couldn't help but find it too entertaining to punish us. Or maybe it was in honor of keeping the traditions of debauchery alive. Don't think I'll ever know, and I'm not sure I want to.

Sunday, 8 April 2012

Silly String and Fart Spray

Ok..... so a bunch of you have been asking me to share something from my high school years. I figured what the hell, this is a blog, not a history book. Screw doing things in chronological order. You want it.... You got it.

Freshman year.... for most people this was a time of awkwardness, fear and uncertainty. For me, and a lot of other people, I made it a year to be remembered. As I started high school I was already in a band, had stopped playing sports and was involved in several...um...."recreational activities". Needless to say, the fact that I was not playing sports and was involved in nothing productive from an extracurricular perspective, my parents were a little more than concerned. My friend, and drummer in my band, was in the percussion line of the marching band and encouraged me to join. He informed me that several of our know associates were in marching band which made the road trips nothing short of a party on the road. Sign me up!

It only took a short amount of time for the leadership of the marching band to suspect that the group of us was up to no good. Maybe it was because of the tall flag girl trippin' out on acid during the middle of a parade. About half way through the parade she dropped her own flag and just kept wandering through the rest of the flag girls screaming, "Ooooohhhhh, look at all the rainbows!" Or maybe it was the time a couple of us thought it would be funny to hide the entire brass section's mouth pieces just before packing the bus for a performance. Never seen so many people nearly shit their pants all at once. When they opened their instrument cases and realised every mouthpiece was gone. Me and my two accomplices were a little bummed when they found the trash bag full of mouth pieces at the back of the luggage compartment on the bus, but we did have about an hour more fun watching them try to figure out which mouthpiece belonged to who.

We were lucky. The music teacher and chaperons were pretty certain that the trouble-makers were in the percussion line, and more specifically the three of us were the guilty ones. But they couldn't generate enough proof to convict. Sadly, they were smart enough to strategize and come up with ways to isolate us from opportunities and keep eyes on us almost all the time. But we were cunning, determined, and bored......they were screwed!

Every year our marching band made a pilgrimage to Disneyland to perform on the streets of the park. But our marching band had a dark side that had span the history of the pilgrimage. In fact, a group of our predecessors were responsible for the discovery of the real Disneyland jail the prior year. As fate would have it, this year was our turn to pick up the torch and we weren't about to disappoint.

About a week prior to the trip, me and my two accomplices made a trek to the local novelty store for supplies. Three cans of silly string, three cans of fart spray and one pack of sulphur bombs were what we decided would do the trick. We weren't sure how or when we would utilise our arsenal, we rarely planned shit out, but we were confident in our improvisational abilities. On top of that, we were pissed and that always added motivation! The chaperons had come up with a way to keep us under control, or so they thought. The bastards made us room with one of the nerdiest guys in the whole band, Tim Jesus (yes, as in the son of God). On top of that, they put us in a room next to the drum major and three section leaders. Jim, Brian and I weren't gonna have a some simp and a hand full of dorks who thought they were special kill our fun.

When we got to our room in the hotel, we had a little talk with Mr. Jesus. Now Tim was a large dude...about 5' 6" and about 275lbs. He was a whiny, pasty, feeble kind of dude. He never did anything wrong. We came to an agreement with him....um...ok....we told him that if he didn't want to get his ass kicked he'd stay out of our way and keep his mouth shut. In exchange, if we did get in trouble we agreed not to implicate him. I think he was so scared of the three of us he would've done anything we told him to.

Game on! Curfew came and we killed the lights and pulled the drapes. Our room and the drum major's room was connected by a set of double doors. Jim, Brian and I realised this would provide us a perfect opportunity to pull off a killer prank! Out came the silly sting and fart spray. We waited to the dorks in the room next door to quiet down. We quietly opened our connecting door and popped the caps on the silly string. It was time for phase one. With all three of us aiming cans face high in the doorway, I pounded on their door. It scared the shit outta them at first. Then they were pissed. They yanked open their door.... FIRE!!!! Before they could say a word they faces were blasted with silly string. The door slammed shut and you could hear them on the other side spitting it out of their mouths and cursing a swearing. Sweet! We slammed our door and locked it. We were ready for phase two. A few minutes pass and things get really quiet next door. We grab the fart spray, quietly open our door and lay flat on the ground in front of their door, fart spray cans pointed at foot level. Jim pounds on the door.

Now the idiots next door were just thinking we were gonna come at them with the silly string again. They had collected the stuff that had been shot at them and were ready for a silly string fight. Dumb-asses! They jerked their door all the way open and started throwing the silly string. At the same time we were hosing their feet, legs and room down with fart spray. Confused by the fact that we weren't standing in front of them again, it took them a minute to realise where we were and that we were spraying them down with something completely different. Again their door slams shut, and at that moment their noses inform them of what had just been done to them.

"Oh fuck!"
"What is that???"
"Holy shit!!!"
"You mother-fuckers!!!"

We immediately shut our door and locked it. We were in hysterics! Even Tim was laughing his ass off. The idiots next door were screaming like someone had thrown acid in their faces. It would calm down for a minute, and then pick up again whenever they moved and stirred up the air in the room. We began to hear the windows being opened, the bathroom fan going on and the shower going. We were laughing so hard it was hard to breathe.

It took about an hour and a half for them to finally calm down. After about fifteen minutes we heard one last thing come through the wall....

"FUCK! IT STILL SMELLS LIKE SHIT IN HERE!!!!"

The night was young.....we were amped up.....and we weren't done.....