The Best Prank of All Time

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I was driving down the pitch-black street, completely unaware of what will become the most important night of my life. It was October 31, the Halloween night, and the day of my birthday.
I was set to turn 16 at 12 o’clock tonight.
My phone was shut off, as I needed to concentrate as I drove through the narrow, winding streets of Walpole. Had my phone been on, all of this could’ve been averted, and I wouldn’t have put my life on the line, just for some stupid tradition.
I pulled into Ray’s and Nick’s bachelor pad, the windows pulsating with the colors of the rainbow. I could feel the sound waves of their intense stereo system pounding through the walls and vibrating off my car’s windows.
I stroll in at 10:30 pm.
I had just gotten a fresh haircut earlier in the day, and felt ready to party. Fighting through the hordes of people, just to try and reach Ray and Nick; I was tossing the bows, and forearming people in the gut.
It was vicious.
I sauntered into their kitchen, seeing the bowl filled with punch, but I was looking for the M&Ms. Disappointed, I sent out to find my bros, to chill with them.
People were congratulating me on a nice game, since I had just pitched a perfect game for St. Sebastian’s against Belmont Hill. Fist bumps were everywhere, along with the occasional high-five. One of my classmates yells from across the room, “Yo, Dals toss up the one,” I throw up the number one, with my index finger.
Grinning with euphoria, I finally find Ray on Xbox, dominating anyone that tries to challenge him to Gears of War 2. Yet, to meet a challenger worthy of him breaking a sweat, I plop down and get to work.
Waging $50.
There was more on the line than just money: respect and bragging rights. The game was intense, but Ray manages to pull off a rolling headshot, to end the game. Impressed, I congratulate him and go search for some of the legends that make up the school.
I find my usual bros, and the chillin commences. Soon bored, I roll off the water-bed and tell the boys I’ll talk to them later.
It was 11:45 pm.
I hop into my Mercedes-Benz SLR McLaren and sped off in search of another party. Finding none, I pull over into a church parking lot and turn my phone on to get directions home.

30 missed calls, 45 new text messages lights up my screen. They were all from my dad; I listen to the first voicemail. My mouth slowly begins to begin its descent to full extension. By the time my mouth had been fully opened; I shut my phone and hurl it into the backseat.
At 12:00 o’clock, I was going to turn into a candy corn, and be like that for 48 hours.
It was 11:50 pm.
I couldn’t believe the time. I had to find some quiet place to hide, and wait this thing out. I tore rubber as I flew out of the parking lot.
Hitting 185 on my speedometer, I cruise through Wellesley, narrowly missing trick-or-treaters and their parents.
It was 11:55 pm.
With growing despair I realize I won’t get home in time. I pull off the road in front of a sketchy house, kill the engine, and turn Lil Wayne off. Rolling the windows up and locking both the doors and the windows, I sit back and wait for the inevitable.
I slowly drift off to sleep.

My eyes crack open. I look around. The car seems bigger for some reason. I look down, and only see leather. Up, nothing but the skylight. A flash of orange catches the peripheral of my eye. I slowly turn my eyes to look.
It all comes back to me in a second.
I see the orange middle strip, then the yellow one; I can only guess that the white strip is where my eyes are. I try and shake my head, but nothing happens.
It was 12:05 pm.
“I have 48 hours more of this,” I thought to myself. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t get my phone, or get…. “What was that, I thought I just heard a knock?”

Crack, crack, crack. If I could’ve, I would’ve p***d my pants. “What was that sound? Who’s making it?”

“Who just parked their car here? I could’ve sworn it was running a second ago.”
I hear some ladies’ voice outside my car.
Crack, crack, “Hello? Anyone in there? Goodness, I can’t see through these tinted windows. I’ll have to go get my hammer and see if there’s someone in there.”
A sense of doom speeds through my candy corn body.
“What am I going to do? I can’t just let her break the window in my sweet car, and possible eat me?”
Muffled footsteps can be heard, gradually getting louder, as they come closer to my car. “Here we are, let’s see if anyone is passed out in the back.”

Whoosh. Crack. The glass showers over me as it falls from the window next to me.

A flash of light pierces my cornea, and I jump!

“What? Where am I?” I mutter as I wipe the drool from my mouth. I peer, out my window, seeing an old lady knocking on my window.
It was all a dream.
I reach for my phone.
It was 12:30 pm.
1 missed call. Listening to the voicemail my father left me, I became angrier with every passing second.
“Brendan, I hope you got this. This has to be the best prank, I every pulled on you or your brother. Happy birthday son. Talk to you tonight.” Filled with rage, I drive off, nearly giving the old lady, who was still knocking a heart attack. Driving at a life threatening speed, I rip through the old roads, shredding any pavement that tried to stop me.
I couldn’t wait to see my dad.





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