- Gary Gygax
It was a warm afternoon at Falling Creek Camp in the mountains of North Carolina. We were all groggy coming off of rest hour. Slowly moving out onto our porch we prepared ourselves mentally for an afternoon and evening full of excitement and fun. When we went to put on our shoes we realized that we could not use them because the left shoelace was missing on all of them. We scrambled to find flip flops, keens, and other laceless shoes and rush to our activities. When dinner came around, the talk of the camp was that Junaluska (our cabin) had been pranked. No one took credit for the attack. After a few days our councelor finally cracked the case and discovered that it was Black Elk. We responded by taking the lightbulb in their bathroom and every single one of their pillows. They immediately thought it was us and came to our cabin. A treaty was struck and it was agreed upon that there would be no more pranks. Unfortunately for them we spent the next two weeks thinking of all of the pranks that we could possibly pull on them. We were preparing to launch a suprise attack in the last week of camp.
Revenge is a dish best served cold, and over the past two weeks it had certainly had enough time to cool. During free time, just before dinner we began the shockingly one sided war. We struck, unlinking the chain in their toilet so that it would not flush when the lever was pulled, we stacked multiple trunks in front of the the door and tied it shut so they could not get in. We also shut their hot water off. Three days later, after all the talk of our prank had died down, we struck after rest hour rest hour. This time we tied all of their shoelaces together with the biggest most complicated knots we could tie (they were easy to undo they just took a little bit) and strung them up on their porch like christmas lights. Finally two days later, just before we left camp we launched the last anonamous prank barrage. This time we toilet-papered the inside and porch of their cabin, stacked four trunks on top of each other to barricade the door and tied it shut (again) and slightly unscrewed all of their lightbulbs so they wouldn't shed light making it appear the electricity was not working, just in their cabin. The next morning we planned to wake them up with an obnoxiously loud digiridoo and get them all on their feet with an axe bomb in the cabin and then pelt them with water balloons, trapping them between the terrible chemical smell of the axe and our wet cold water balloons. Luckily for them we never had the opportunity to strike because one of the directors of the camp made an announcement banning more pranks. Next year I am sure no one will touch our shoes.
I learned from the prank war and all of the fun we had that being a good sport is really important. If one of us on either side had been really upset we could not have continued and had all of the fun we did. I look forward to going back to Falling Creek next year and hopefully getting into a prank war again.