Who Knows What Evil Lurks In The Hearts Of Men (And Women)....

...the shadow do, that's who!

And I bet you're just sitting in your chair, reading this, as if you had nothing better to do, and wondering what the hell brought THIS on? Well, what brought this on is that for some reason, I was sitting here today reminiscing about the funniest and most diabolically, cleverly and fiendishly imaginative and evil thing I ever did to someone. Now, some of you might not think it's particularly evil, or even funny, and it truly isn't funny ha-ha funny, but I dare you to deny its diabolicial, clever and fiendishly imaginative nature.

So without further ado, here goes. And bear with me here.

Some years ago (not TOO many), I was the office manager of a small local law firm. In this small local firm, which I'll call "Tweedle Dumb & Tweedle Dumber" (which brings me to another story, but not now...), we had occasion to hire law clerks to do the more mundane tasks which the attorneys did not want to burden themselves with. Which, if you know anything about attorneys, means just about everything.

Well, anyway, there came a time when we had occasion to hire a lovely young gentleman whom I will call, quite simply and accurately, "The Victim." Well, The Victim was a nice enough sort, but true to what I found out soon enough to be the typical law clerk persona, which was sort of a combination of knowing just enough to be dangerous to self and those around self, a healthy dose of ego, the immaturity of the young, and the arrogance of a lawyer-in-training, we constantly butted heads. Now I knew enough to realize that confronting the situation head-on would not be the preferred method of dealing with it; in fact, I knew the opposite to be true. Remember, we are dealing with lawyers here, and lawyers-in-training.

So instead, I just sat, waited, and observed. And through this, I noticed that The Victim had a particuarly intriguing anal retentive habit with, of all things, his pencils. His office was next to mine, and I noticed that every day before he left, he would sharpen all of his pencils to a nice, sharp, uniform point with the battery operated pencil sharpener in his office, and place them, point up, in the pencil cup on his desk.

Well, that was all I needed to commence The Attack.

The first day after he left, I simply went into his office, dulled all the points, and put the pencils back in the cup, point (or should I say, former point, nyuck nyuck nyuck) facing up. He came in the next day and wouldn't you know, went straight for the pencil cup, eyeing it as if it were some kind of monster from the deep, perplexed as all hell as to how this could possibly have occurred, wondering whether he forgot his usual habit, then simply taking all the pencils, sharpening them once again to their fine points, and replacing them in the cup, none the worse for wear.

So I waited a few days. And then one day when he left, I turned the pencils face down. And got the same reaction the next morning.

Then I really started fucking with him. Every couple of days, I'd face them down, then I'd leave some up, and some down, then I'd replace them with red pencils, I'd hide them, shit like that. And still, he did not catch on; he simply kept sharpening, turning, replacing, without skipping a beat.

And then one day, I got the brainstorm of all brainstorms. I went into his office after he left one day, and replaced the batteries in the pencil sharpener with ones that I had taken from home, which were just about dead. Then I dulled all the pencil points, and waited. And the next morning, when he came in, and saw the dulled pencil points, and grabbed the sharpener, I heard this "eerrrrrgrrrrrrssssh", you know, the noise sharpeners make when they die.

He came running into my office in a panic, holding the sharpener, barely coherent. When I asked him what was wrong, he thrust the sharpener in my direction, mumbling something incomprehensible, so I made it easy for him (ha!), telling him that yes, I had heard that distinctive sound, and I would get him new batteries.

Which I did, and replaced them that afternoon....but I kept the old ones.

And then I left him alone for about two weeks.

And THEN, the piece de resistance.

I replaced the brand new batteries with the old batteries one night after he left. And then, of course, the tried and true dull points trick. So the next morning he comes in, finds the dull points, reaches for the sharpener, only to hear that distinctive "errrrrggggggrrrssh" once again.

Again, he picks up the sharpener, runs into my office, thrusts it out towards me... and I tell him, very firmly and sternly, this: "We've had that sharpener for two years now with the same set of batteries, and it worked fine. I just replaced them for you less than two weeks ago, and now they're DEAD ALREADY? I'll get you new ones, but I'm taking them out of your pay!" As he stands there, aghast, I start laughing my mo-fo ass off, and finally..... FINALLY.... he gets it.

He turned the strangest color of ash, ran out of the room, and studiously avoided me for a couple of months.

I had no more problems with him; we ended up becoming great friends, and in fact, when he left for a "real" job, I gave him a dozen pencils and his very own battery operated pencil sharpener.

Fuckin'A; one of the best stunts I ever pulled, if'n I hafta say so myself!

So, any of you got any evil stories to share?