As per Andy's comments on Hospitaliano, I've got another story for you...
Back in the day, when Andy and I still both worked at Beach Blanket Babylon, we pretty much spent every waking minute together. (Not that it's that much different now...) One night, we both called in sick, and spent the evening getting stoned and watching TV. Soon bored out of our minds and itching for mischeif, we decided we felt like pulling some pranks. After a search of Andy's flat, we found the following: an old leather purse and some clear fishing line, stolen from BBB where it's used backstage to hang shit. Anyway, Andy's old apartment was in the middle of the Castro, one floor up rom the street, and right on 18th. There was always tons of foot traffic in front of his place, and we decided to fuck with the gays, cruising for action.
We tied the fishing line to the purse, and then lowered the purse out the window, until it was jut resting on the sidewalk below. We realized, that with two bay windows sticking out over 18th, one of us could hold the purse line, and the other could go to the second window and watch for victims. When someone would approach the purse, I'd wait for the perfect moment, and then signal Andy, who'd give the line a hard pull, making the purse fly into the air. This typically resulted in a scream from our victim, and then they'd walk away muttering, "losers...".
Walter, Andy's then roommate, was rolling his eyes at us, calling us immature and nerdy. That is, until he heard our uncontrollable hysterics and decided to try. We got Walter hooked, so much so that he attempted to ammend and redevelop our trickery, creating more elaborate schemes. Really though, nothing was more hilarious than the purse on the string.
Now, obviously, Andy and I tend to laugh at things only we'd find funny, and really, the visual of two stoned and poverty-stricken 20-something's with nothing better to do than play tricks on people with lives is a sad sight indeed. But I must admit, we laughed so hard, I was sore for a week after. I think, half the time, we were laughing so much because we couldn't believe we had actually sunk so low. We kept our tricks up for hours, finding ways of pulling the purse that would result in more dramatic reactions from our victims. You don't play the purse trick on just anybody. You wait for the perfect person, someone you're sure will scream and curse and jump and holler. Then, and only then, does the true satasfaction come, from the mastering of the art that is practical jokery.
For an additional chuckle, and visual, check out Walter's website. www.thunderstormwitch.com