A prank is typically a playful act designed to provoke laughter or astonishment, though the line between harmless fun and cruelty can sometimes blur depending on the nature of the prank and how it affects the person targeted.
Image: DFA / Created with Meta AI
“HI JOE … Can you come down for a sec? I want to ask you something. It’s pretty important,” the young man called to his friend who had just climbed three stories up a scaffold.
“What is it?” Joe shouted back, clearly reluctant to make the long trip down.
“I can’t shout it out from down here. It’s kind of personal.”
With a sigh, Joe carefully climbed down the criss-cross of metal pipes.
Finally standing next to his friend, he asked, “So, what’s so important?”
His buddy grinned and said, “What on earth are you doing up there?” Then, without waiting for a reply, he hopped on his bicycle and rode away.
I have it on good authority that this harmless – if frustrating – prank happened right here in Kimberley decades ago. I can’t say who the cycling villain was, because my family may disown me.
Pranks and capers have been around almost forever. I suppose it’s just part of human nature.
Even ancient Rome wasn’t immune. Marcus Aurelius Antoninus – better known as Elagabalus – ruled from 218 to 222 AD and was famous not only for incompetence but for his mischievous spirit.
According to archaeologist Warwick Ball, Elagabalus delighted in seating pompous dinner guests on early versions of whoopee cushions. He also thought it hilarious to release snakes into crowds, or to lock drunken guests into rooms with tamed lions, bears, or leopards.
The spirit of Elagabalus seems alive and well today – if you look at social media. Scare pranks are everywhere: statues coming alive to terrify passers-by; a supposed beekeeper dropping a fake hive in an elevator, jabbing terrified strangers with a needle to simulate bee stings.
One particularly cruel prank made a huge impression on me. A husband, knowing his wife’s deep fear of spiders, rigged a giant, hairy spider – the size of a trash can lid – to leap at her unexpectedly.
She went into convulsions and fell backwards, possibly hitting her head out of frame. Yet the man laughed, even as she writhed on the floor, as if having a seizure, and posted the video online for all to see.
Honestly, watching it disgusted me.
Don’t get me wrong – I was once a teenage master of scare pranks. Now, looking back, I’m ashamed of my immature heartlessness.
This week, though, I saw a very different, heartwarming kind of “prank”.
A young boy, clearly from a poor background, had apparently never had a birthday party. His teacher and classmates decorated a corner of their classroom, and when he walked in, they erupted in a celebratory chorus.
The boy stood frozen, stunned. Then his eyes welled up. He covered his face, weeping with sheer joy, while his friends rushed to embrace him.
Watching that clip made me wonder: What kind of world could we create if the definition of “prank” shifted from cruel surprises to unexpected acts of kindness?
Now that would be something truly special.