April Fools Jokes

I've always been something of a joker. My instinct has always been to find the funny side of life, even in stressful situations. Moments before my surgery for cancer, I was joking with the surgeon about whether he'd paid his malpractice premium. Friends say that had I been on the Titanic, I probably would have been doing stand up.

So, in the spirit of April Fool's day, I thought it'd be fun to scribble down a few stories about funny pranks that I played on people.

Story #1- The Chicken Incident

On of my closest friends- I'll call him JC (because as a lawyer he might sue me!). Anyway, JC and I had the exact same model of phone. We were running errands for work and my phone was almost out of charge.

"Do you mind if I charge my phone on your charger," I asked.

"My phone isn't fully charged yet," he said, not bothering to look at me.

"But it has more charge than my phone. I'm almost out."

"I said no." he said, still looking ahead.

Inwardly, I seethed with irritation. I really needed my phone as I was expecting a call from my fiance (and now wife). So, I did slight of hand. While JC looked ahead, I switched phones on him- placing my phone in the charger.

We drove around for a while and out of boredom, I checked to see what ringtones he'd downloaded. It turned out that he had the same funky chicken ringtone that I had. It gave me an idea.

"So, we're here," J.C. said when we had arrived back at court for the afternoon calendar. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah, see you," I said, but I followed him down the hall way a few steps back. I waited until he approached a group of officers that were his witnesses for the afternoon. Then I dialed his phone.

"CACKLE DODOO DODOOO! CACKLE DODOO DODOO!" came the sound from his ringtone. with any accompanying disco beat. The officers that were with him stared at him and then burst into laughter.

"Nice phone, counselor.."

Story #2- Sing, mothertrucker!

When I was a teenager, I had an interesting relationship with my oldest brother Mario. We would steal from each other. Nothing serious- mostly music and clothes. He would see a cassette of mine that he liked and, being bigger than me, would take it. I would respond by going to his house or car, and taking two CDs. Then he might snag my favorite sweater, while I would respond by taking his shirts. Being ten years older and actually having money to buy good stuff, Mario almost always came out losing in the exchange. He would complain to my father, but it fell on deaf ears.

"You should be setting an example for your brother. You're the older one." Papa would say and Mario would grumble.

Then came the famous car crash of the Pontiac T1000. In addition to larceny, my brother and I shared bad driving in common. No one else in the family had crashed as many vehicles. My latest victim was my Pontiac economy car- chosen by my father because it could not exceed fifty miles per hour and was presumably very safe for me. As it turned out, it wasn't very safe for my Aunt Betty's car. I totaled both cars in a collison that happened while I fiddled with my new car radio.

The Pontiac ended up at my brother's used car dealership. He took the car radio out and put in his car and showed it off to me while I grumbled.

"I'll give it back to you when you get a new car," he said. "In the meantime, try singing?"

But, when I got my next car- a wonderful Datsun pickup that you could drive with either keys or a screwdriver- Mario refused to give me the radio back. He offered me a used radio from the dealership and easily deflected my attempts to take it by force- I was tall and gym strong, but my brother Mario has always been street strong.

I ended up returning to the dealership when he wasn't present and borrowing a slim jim from the car lot. This was a tool used to open cars without a key- it was a slim piece of metal with a hook that you could use to jimmy a lock.

That night, I drove to his house in Tijuana and parked next to his car. It took only a second to open the car and another few seconds to remove the radio, but I felt like I was going to be discovered at any moment. Sure enough, I'd just finished locking his car back up when Mario emerged from his house.

"Dinner?" I asked, dropping the radio surreptiously at my feet and kicking it under my car. My brother grabbed me in a headlock, but then dragged me into the house and fed me. It was a wonderful dinner of meat, tortillas and salsa. After about five tacos, I got ready to leave.

"Can I borrow a piece of paper and a pencil," I asked.

"Not a problem, Mario said. He advised me to be careful when I went clubbing, evidently thinking the paper was to jot down phone numbers.

Instead, when I left, I used the slim jim again and left a note in the gaping hole where the radio had been.

"Sing, mothertrucker!"