Impractical Jokes (7 page)

PEACETIME

My sister took this photo of (left to right): Mum, myself, Dad, Richard, Cheryl and Richard's dog Thabi. The happy, peaceful proximity of all parties leads me to assume this was snapped before the war began.

MUM, RICHARD, FRIENDS ROBBIE AND HARRY, DAD AND CHERYL

I have included this photo as a historical document that I want on permanent record. Not because it highlights two fine examples of eighties knitwear, but rather because it highlights the look my parents and their friends had on their faces throughout my childhood.

WANTED FOR BREAKING, ENTERING AND ALMOST EXITING

Richard Opie and Ian Jackson, seen here in custody after a bungled dinner party hold-up. It is unclear from eyewitness accounts if their blue moustaches were drawn on before or after the raid.

HUDAR

Me and my best friend, Hudar. Hudar's alive-state indicates the photo could have been taken either before or after the hold-up.

SEATS OF POWER

Dad and I are seen here in the planning phase of our artistic venture. Such is our focus and dedication we are seemingly unaware of the camera's presence.

THE DAFFO DILS OF WAR

Installation piece by Pickering and Son. Materials: reclaimed toilet bowl, daffodils and dirt. Value: priceless.

NO BUSINESS LIKE IT

From left to right: Mum, me, friends Julie and Harley, Dad, Richard (apparently incognito), Cheryl and Suzie. Our smiles and cheerful dispositions are easily explained by the fact that we were outside our lodge.

GOD HELP ME, I WAS ONLY FO URTEEN

Suzie, myself and other kids from the lodge attempt to build fortifications at the height of alpine hostilities. Due to the abundance of winter clothing I couldn't for the life of me tell you who is who.

WE W ISH YOU A MERRY CHRISTMAS I

It's hard to believe this impressive yuletide masterpiece was made by hand. As you can imagine, the street was delighted at our second-ever attempt at neighbourliness since the ill-fated ‘Get to Know Your Street' barbecue.

WE WISH YOU A MERRY CHRISTMAS II

A return gesture came a week later. This seasonal creation is the product of a toilet seat, a glue gun, a spotlight voucher, my sister, my mother and them having way too much time on their hands.

OPERATION LOVELY RITA —THE SECOND ATTEMPT

Much like an iceberg, the true magnitude of the structure remains hidden from view below the surface.

‘Bloody Opie!'

‘Correct!'

And with that they opened fire. Because not everyone at the table knew who ‘Bloody Opie' was, there were some poor souls who believed they were genuinely under attack. As the triggers depressed, the precision German speakers blasted out their cacophony of convincing gunfire. Within seconds there wasn't a dry pant in the house. Some people started screaming. Others were crying. Nobody was laughing.

When everyone had received a blast from the pistols and the two bandits were sure that their job was done, they made a run for it. Sprinting headlong into the dark, they promptly got lost.

Ian, thinking he was running out a door, ran into a cupboard. Ricocheting off the back wall, he came tumbling out under formidable duress from a posse of overcoats. He bounced off a wall, flipped over a chair and landed in a crumpled heap in the corner. Richard used this kerfuffle as the perfect cover and poured himself a large glass of claret, which he drank through the stocking on his head. Thirst quenched and giving up on Ian altogether, Richard went to make his getaway. He fled down a darkened hall and immediately became disoriented. Wheeling around and groping the air for help that wasn't there, he tripped over an indoor plant, knocked a painting off a wall and cracked his shin on a low-lying coffee table. Within seconds he was on all fours, swearing loudly and making little progress.