Two
weeks have passed since the theft of our beloved microwave. My
roommates and I have been thinking of revenge some time now, but have
been unable to do more than steal our brothers’ XBox
controllers and TV remotes, which we were only able to keep for a day
before having to give them back.
The
subsequent theft of Sarah’s blender has convinced us that we
need to do something more dastardly; and so we begin to hatch our
plan...
They
were out. They had to be all out. Josh had told us specifically that
he couldn’t study in the dorm, and all of our brothers had said
much the same thing. The afternoon after all our classes had ended,
when they were all away at the library, would be a perfect time for
the mission.
Kylie,
Tiffanie, Kaitlynn, and I were the only ones who knew about it. We
had planned it spontaneously, and we giggled to ourselves as we
crossed the courtyard to the boys’ building, making sure to go
stealthily, in case any of them were looking out of their window onto
the lawn. Tiffanie carried a paper folder. If everything went as
planned, we’d be able to get into their apartment, carry out
the mission, and leave without them discovering us there.
We
reached the boys’ building without incident, slipped inside,
and into the elevator. When it stopped on the third floor, I crept
out first, checked to make sure that the hall was clear, and then
motioned for the other three to follow me. With wary glances over our
shoulders and our ears alert for the voices of our brothers (we knew
them pretty well by now), we hurried down the hallway to room 3103.
We
began with the door. From her folder, Tiffanie produced six printouts
of Disney princesses that I had helped her cut out and color in. We’d
given each of our brothers a princess: Dillon was Belle, Josh was
Ariel, Michael was Rapunzel, Cade was Jasmine, Nick was Cinderella,
and Gabe was Sleeping Beauty.
(After
the mission, however, we figured that Sleeping Beauty probably would
have suited Cade much better than Gabe.)
We
stuck these pictures to the front of the door with sticky-tack, and
then this was it: the moment of truth — the one upon which the
fate of the entire mission depended. I leaned on the door and pushed
in ever so gently; ever so gently, it swung forward, open, just like
they’d told us it was.
Perfect.
In
a way, our brothers had helped us come up with this brilliant plan.
When Michael had mentioned to Tiffanie and me that they didn’t
feel like pulling out their ID cards to swipe into the door every
time they got home, and had stuck a magnet into their door to allow
them to just swing it open without ever locking it, we knew that we’d
struck gold.
So
in we went. The door leading to their bedrooms was closed, so we
couldn’t be sure if anyone was there or not. We had to be quiet
in that case. I held the door open for Kylie, Tiffanie, and Kaitlynn
to creep in, and then I let it fall shut silently.
They
had no sooner crept into the living room, however, than Kylie and
Tiffanie hastily stumbled backwards. “Go back! Go back!”
they hissed frantically.
“What?”
I whispered. They pointed into the living room. Tiptoeing, I crept
into the room and peered at the couch, whereupon lay Cade, nestled in
a pit of blankets and pillows and fast asleep.
Cautiously,
I moved forward, my eyes on my FHE brother. He didn’t stir when
I walked into the kitchen; nor did he stir when I opened a cupboard
and shut it; nor did he stir when I said, “Hey, Cade. Bacon!”
He could have been dead.
We
worked quickly then, not knowing just how sound of a sleeper he was
or how soon it would be before he woke up. First we looked for
Sarah’s blender — we knew it was in the apartment
somewhere, but with our luck, it was probably down the hallway with
the bedrooms.
While
searching the cupboards for the blender, we also collected prizes.
Tiffanie
grabbed the first things she found: a box of Oreos, a metal basket of
silverware. Kylie found a container of Nesquik. There was still,
however, no sign of Sarah’s blender.
Though
our quest to rescue the blender was unsuccessful, we figured we had a
pretty good array of trophies. But we knew we had to take something
else — something to crown our achievement. The microwave was
out of the question; we had learned from the RAs that kitchen
appliances were not to be taken out of the apartments, and anyway, it
was too heavy for any of us to carry to our apartment.
Tiffanie
looked around the living room, at the dishes in the sink, the
backpacks spilling books onto the floor, the XBox games and
controllers, the keyboard, the stereo, the TV, the still-sleeping
young man on the couch. “Howabout Clint Eastwood?”
“Yes!”
We all had to stifle our laughter at the thought of that. They loved
their Clint Eastwood poster.
While
Tiffanie and Kaitlynn pulled it from the wall, Kylie and I left with
the rest of the stuff we had decided to borrow. I have never been so
tense as I was walking back with Kylie. We expected any moment to
hear Tiffanie and Kaitlynn running after us, with Cade (or more of
our FHE brothers) after them.
However,
we made it back to the apartment without incident, and Tiffanie and
Kaitlynn soon arrived back as well, bearing the poster, which we then
affixed to our living room wall.
Mission
accomplished.
Of
course, we weren’t finished yet.
Photos
commemorating our success went on Facebook: the door with the Disney
Princesses, Cade asleep on the couch, the Clint Eastwood poster on
our living room wall with the four of us clustered happily around it,
holding up our trophies of Oreos and Nesquik and silverware. We
weren’t gloating, exactly — we were more interested in
seeing their reaction when they realized what we had done, and what
better way to spread the word without actually spreading the word
than on Facebook?
Turned
out nobody cared about the Oreos or Nesquik or silverware except
Dillon, because all of them turned out to be Dillon’s. But it
wasn’t long after we’d posted the pictures before the
“Free Clint” campaign began. They had seen that we had
him, and they were determined to get him back.
Clint
resided with us for two days, during which we checked our door every
time each of us went out to make sure it locked properly and made
sure to look out the peephole before answering a knock. We did give
him back eventually, and by that time both parties agreed that maybe
the pranking should come to an end — for the time being.
To
be honest, we probably got them much worse than they got us or ever
would have gotten us. It was unfair, really.
But
since those Disney princesses are still to this day hanging on their
front door, we figure they didn’t mind it too much.
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