The Prank Finale

Newsletter 2024-08-08

I love it when a scheme comes together. I got my latest round of shenanigans across the finish line, much to the detriment of the world and those around me. The beneficiary/victim had never been so confused in his life, which is a long time since he is very old. Here’s how it all went down.

Months ago, my friends and I decided to give our buddy Peter a plastic bust of his own head in the style of the Roman emperors of old. Why? If you need a reason, you have no place in the pranking business. The less sense something makes, the funnier it is to us. The only thing holding my peer group together is our shared love of chaos. Ostensibly, the justification for the bust was that Peter has dreamy eyes. It’s an inside joke. In reality, Peter’s eyes are unremarkable. Fun fact: All dudes look the same. If you think you can tell the difference, you’re lying to yourself. The bust was an especially good idea for a gift because of how much it annoyed Peter’s wife, Delilah. The last thing she wanted was a life-size facsimile of her husband’s head taking up space in their home for the rest of their lives. She tried to persuade us to make a bunch of small, easily hidden busts that she could tuck away among other random knick-knacks. We refused. The more obnoxious and inconvenient a gift, the better. A thoughtful present should be a punishment for everyone involved. I finally understand why I’m no longer welcome at Christmas.

The target date to deliver the bust was Peter’s birthday. It would be his forty-ninth, which would help lower suspicions. Everyone expects an obnoxious, 3D-printed novelty gift for their fiftieth birthday, but the forty-ninth flies under the radar. As a side note, it’s extremely upsetting that I have friends who are nearly half a century old. I haven’t aged a day since my mid-twenties. If everyone else, including my children, could stop getting older at such an alarming rate, I’d appreciate it. My friend Ryan has a massive 3D printing rig that must have cost as much as a used car. Like everyone else with such an awesomely unnecessary toy, he’s always looking for an excuse to use it. I’m not sure what his initial justification was for the purchase, but the most practical things he’d printed out before this were some minifigures for a board game and a replacement part for his vacuum. Creating a plastic bust of Peter’s head could justify Ryan’s 3D printer purchase in one fell swoop, transforming it from an expensive boondoggle into a much celebrated household essential. I shared Ryan’s enthusiasm. I promised to get him whatever he needed to make the bust. His request was simple but not easy: I needed to take a video of Peter’s head, circling it three times so an app could create a 3D rendering of it. I can’t think of anything more suspicious than asking someone to let me take a video of their head from every angle. That’s something I would never agree to for myself, no matter how good the excuse. You could tell me that taking a video of my head would end world hunger and I would still say no. Peter is not as suspicious as me, much to his detriment. Nearly half a century on this planet has worn down his defenses against his fellow man. We should take away his phone so he doesn’t get scammed by telemarketers. Everyone always wants to take advantage of the elderly, including friends with access to the best 3D printer on the market. 

I asked my fourteen-year-old, Betsy, to make the first video of Peter’s head. As a teenager, nothing she does ever seems strange or out of place. I only get alarmed when she’s not being weird. That’s how I know she’s up to something. During one of our regular Wednesday night board game sessions, Betsy asked to take a rotating video of everyone’s craniums. She said it was for an Instagram reel. Peter has no idea what that is, but he went along with it anyway. It’s his own fault for being a team player. After Peter and Delilah went home, I sent the file to Ryan. He got to work. I didn’t hear back from him for days. That’s always a sign that everything’s going well and your plan will surely work. 

To the surprise of me and only me, Ryan had bad news. The video wasn’t good enough. Betsy was too short. She took the video when Peter was standing, which caused every rotation to be oriented from below his face. I would have to convince Peter to let us take a video of him again. Surely he wouldn’t be trusting enough to fall for it a second time. Did I mention that he’s old? That’s where things stood when I sent my last newsletter about this prank. It was the extra motivation I needed to come up with a new ruse. There’s no backing out after I’ve told a bunch of strangers on the internet. As a side note, this is why you should always read my newsletter if you know me in real life. It’s an act of self-defense. Peter didn’t, so he had no idea what was coming. Non-readers are the easiest targets.

My chance came a few days after I sent that email. We went over to Peter and Delilah’s house again for yet another board game session. This time, it wouldn’t be just our usual group. Besides myself and Lola and my brother-in-law and sister-in-law, Jerry and Alice, Peter and Delilah also invited over a new couple who they met at a winery. Obviously, this was the best time possible to exhibit some truly strange behavior. With minutes to go until the new couple arrived, and with no warning about what I was up to, I asked Jerry if I could take a video of his head. My excuse was that I wanted to make 3D renderings of my daughters but their long hair was interfering. I needed a test subject with a buzz cut. It took Jerry half a second to catch on. We started moving furniture. Peter and Delilah’s living room wasn’t set up to allow an orbital photoshoot of someone’s head. We pushed the coffee table to the side and put a kitchen stool in the middle of the room. I circled. When I was done, I declared that Jerry’s hair might not be short enough. For redundancy, I asked Peter if I could make a video of his head, too. He went along with it for a second time. He sat slumped on the stool as I rotated around him at an uncomfortably close range. That’s when the new couple walked in. We certainly know how to make a first impression. I assured them that this was completely normal and that we start off every game day this way. They asked no follow-up questions. Later that night, I sent the video to Ryan. I waited apprehensively to see what he would say. I didn’t have it in me to lie to Peter for a third time. If this video didn’t work, the project would officially be dead.

The news was mixed. The new video worked better than the old one, but the light from a window caused a problem. In the 3D rendering, it created a massive hole in the side of Peter’s head. Also, his posture left something to be desired. I didn’t tell him to sit up straight and proud like Julius Caesar posing for a sculptor. Instead, Peter slouched with his neck jutting forward. It wasn’t quite the regal look we were looking for. Ryan tinkered with the video’s settings, trying to get the app to fill in the missing portion of Peter’s skull. Nothing worked. The source data wasn’t good enough. Then, in our darkest moment, Ryan had an idea. It was time to outsource.

He got on a gig website and found a 3D renderer in the UK who said he could fill in the gaps. I sent Ryan the money, and Ryan sent the file to the UK. Within a few hours, the UK guy got the file back to us. The issue was England’s highest priority. The king must have known we were on a deadline. We only had a few days left until Peter’s birthday. We didn’t have to give it to him on that exact date, but we thought our pointless gift would seem more meaningful if we did. Not only did the British renderer fill in the gaps in Peter’s head, but he also fixed his neck. Suddenly, Peter’s digital doppelganger had an upright posture that accurately reflected his inner majesty. Ryan had everything he needed. He started to print.

For the next fifteen hours, the 3D printer churned out layer after layer of melted plastic. When it was finished, I assume it let out a tiny ding like a microwave timer. Ryan sent me a text. The project was half done. He had the base. He sent me a photo of it with an apple on top to give me a sense of scale. Peter’s real name was printed proudly on the front, which I blurred out here for the sake of his privacy, even though you’re going to see his real face and a perfect replica of him in a few more paragraphs. We’ve already established that all men look the same, so that won’t reveal anything personal about him. Ryan estimated that it would take another fifteen to twenty hours to print Peter’s glorious dome. I waited on pins and needles. We were so close. 

The 3D printer churned away once more. It finished nearly a day later after dark on Birthday Eve. I texted our group to arrange for delivery. On Monday nights, Peter, Jerry, and I have a remote man date to play the digital version of Gloomhaven together from our own homes. I verified that Peter was free for 7:30 p.m. on our usual night. Little did he know we actually planned to be at his house. I also coordinated with Delilah to make sure there wouldn’t be any extra complications if we showed up uninvited. I didn’t want to be attacked by a guard kitten that wasn’t expecting me. As a final step, I went to Walmart and bought a golden tablecloth fit for an emperor to use as wrapping paper. The pieces were in place. All I had to do was wait for the appointed hour the next day. The anticipation was killing me. 

Finally, the appointed evening arrived. I gathered up my family, minus one kid who had scouts, and headed to Ryan’s house. Jerry and his daughter met us there. Together, we admired the finished bust. It was exactly as glorious as I expected. Ryan could not stress enough how much he wanted that thing out of his house. It was incredibly creepy to have a copy of Peter staring at him. Now, it would be in Peter and Delilah’s house forever. I couldn’t have been more delighted. I wrapped the precious cargo in the tablecloth and secured it with half a roll of tape. We carried it a few doors down to Peter and Delilah’s house.

Delilah had been texting me updates throughout the evening. She hadn’t spoiled the surprise or ruined the scheme, even though it would have been in her best interest to do both. In fact, she was helping us. She was doing her best to keep Peter from changing into his pajamas before our 7:30 p.m. start time for digital Gloomhaven. I cannot stress enough how old he is. She said by text that he was growing increasingly irritated as she gave him random chores leading up to the minute when he was supposed to start guy time. We let ourselves into their house, as we always do. We hadn’t planned to turn this into a surprise party, but there was no one there to greet us. Peter and Delilah were both upstairs. We hid. Delilah lured Peter downstairs. We all jumped out and yelled, “Happy birthday!”

Peter saw the gift on the table. Carefully, he tore at the wrapping paper. Then not so carefully. I used a lot of tape. Finally he broke through. This is what he saw.