The Band-Aid Prank


In the past I’ve written about mixing fake cat vomit, leaving incriminating liquor bottles around the house, and bringing horror-food to life, all in the name of mankind’s oldest pastime– pranking. I was content to rest on my laurels for a time, chuckling whenever I recalled the look on my roomate’s face, seeing a gallon of cat vomit on the front steps with his precious “Pumpkin” looking innocent as ever and decidedly not dead. But it wasn’t enough. I grew bored. The laughter faded. I needed to plan my next big score. And I looked to dirty swimming pools for my muse.

What’s the worst thing you can discover floating in a pool, like a buoy drifted out of the 9th circle of hell to stalk you through the eye-searing waters? Urine? Feces? Dead insects?

Say it with me: Used Band-Aids.

20150921_171750So I set about crafting slightly congealed bloody remnants, made from red food dye and a pinch of store-bought gelatin. I started small. Innocent. On the first day it was a single band-aid, left near the bathroom trash, carelessly flung in the corner like a poorly shot free-throw. The second day it was two band-aids, folded neatly and left on the kitchen counter. Day three, it was three dirty little wound-leavings, dropped in the hallway. And so on…and so on.

20150921_161148Each one was a unique, bloody snowflake. Imperfections, poorly wiped gauze, and inconsistent gelatin dispersal only enhanced the organic quality.

20150917_192113At first none of my three roomates (or house guests) seemed to take offense. The band-aids sometimes went missing, tossed out by a good samaritan. Sometimes they lingered for days, gathering dust, yet remaining conspicuously bright red and cheery. Just look at this little champ, clinging to the inside lid of the garbage.

20150921_171825One or two missing bloodspots didn’t deter me, however. I was an artist. I was determined. Soon, not even the most tidy dweller could keep up with the crimson tide.

20151004_165115I didn’t limit myself to “convenient” targets either. Near the end of the prank I took a more aggressive stance. I went after the places considered dear to roommates the world over.

20151004_165853Refrigerator shelves.

20151004_165640Door knobs into their rooms.


20151004_165647Eye-level molding.

I was mad with power. Every angry cry or shriek only fueled my passion. I wasn’t home to enjoy the final burst of rage and confusion, but my absence only added to the mystery. So how did I know when they were ready for the big reveal? I had a plant.

Screenshot_2015-10-04-17-57-29And then, when everyone (except me) was gathered, complaining about the flood of grossness from an unnamed hemophiliac, I sent a simple, wordless group-text.

Screenshot_2015-10-04-17-57-38You might be asking by now; Was it worth it? Was it worth alienating my friends and roommates, to prove there is no level I won’t sink to– to pull off an elaborate weeks-long prank? You decide.


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