Games With Whipped Cream

It all started with whipped cream and a devilish grin…

…Sorry to dash your hopes, but this isn’t going where you think. Nope; for a change I’m writing a G-rated post. (Well, okay, I realize how unlikely that is. Maybe PG-13.)

Anyhow, a couple of days ago Hubby and I were eating dinner. I had made crêpes and I was alternating flavours: dousing the first one with maple syrup, then rolling up the next one with whipped cream, sugar, and cinnamon.

I had just finished rolling up a plump crêpe when Hubby looked over at my plate and gave me a devilish grin. “That’s really full of whipped cream,” he observed. “What would happen if I did… THIS!”

And he mimed slamming his hand down on the end of my crêpe.

Imagining my crêpe being transformed into a whipped-cream cannon, I burst out laughing because it brought back great memories of being in the Taché Hall residence at the University of Manitoba a few decades ago.

Taché Hall now houses the Marcel A. Desautels Faculty of Music, but it was originally built in 1911 as dormitories for the Agricultural College. (The College later expanded and became the University of Manitoba.  For history and architecture buffs, a fascinating account of Taché’s history is available here.)

Taché Hall in 1911, when the U of M was still the Agricultural College.

Taché Hall in 1911, when the U of M was still the Agricultural College.

It still retained most of its original grandeur by the time I got there in 1982, but we rowdy prairie teenagers failed utterly to respect it. Fortunately it was mostly stone, because it never would have survived otherwise.

That’s where the whipped-cream memory comes in. Or rather, shaving cream. (Or sometimes sheep shit from the agricultural buildings, but that’s another story.)

The room doors had been modernized and the locks were good (unless someone who shall remain nameless managed to purloin a master key… and that’s another ‘nother story). But there was a gap of approximately half an inch under each door.

Some enterprising person (no, not I) devised a nasty and elegantly simple practical joke. The only materials required were a sturdy 8×10 manila envelope and a can of shaving cream (or semi-liquid sheep shit, depending on how nasty you wanted to get).

Once the envelope was filled with the substance of choice, one had only to slide the open end of the envelope under the gap in the victim’s door and then jump on the envelope. The resulting high-velocity splatter would reach nearly every part of the tiny room. Bonus points were awarded if the occupant was present at the time.

Another favourite prank was the shit-shower, in which the prankster lurked in a toilet stall bearing a bucket of ice water mixed with shredded toilet paper. When an unsuspecting victim entered the adjacent cubicle and sat down, the prankster would dump the bucket over the cubicle wall, dousing the victim and escaping before he/she could pull his/her pants up and pursue.

(Note: I swear I never did these things. I was only an innocent bystander.)

It’s amazing how one crêpe can bring back so many happy memories…

* * *

P.S. I’ve finished the next cover update:  Tell Me No Spies.  Slowly but surely, I’m getting them done…

AK-4 cover final 2015

39 thoughts on “Games With Whipped Cream

  1. I love the new cover too. In fact they are all beautiful.
    I am not a fan of pranks either as most of them wind up being either dangerous or humiliating to the pranked. I can handle a light embarrassment, but not public humiliation.
    I did write that down about the envelope under the door. That’s a good one.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I feel the same way about pranks. The only prank I ever recall pulling was years and years ago. Back when Dick Prickly the cactus
      was young and cute, my friends got used to seeing him tucked away in the corner of the room. Then my mother-in-law at the time bought me a fake barrel cactus about 9″ across. It looking remarkably realistic sitting there in its nice terracotta pot, but its spines were soft plastic. The gang was sitting around the living room one day and one of the guys remarked, “Oh, you got another cactus!”

      The devil seized me, and I said, “Yeah, check it out!” I picked up the fake cactus, being elaborately careful not to touch the spines, and carried it over to where he sat on the couch. Then I ‘tripped’ just as I reached him, and the ‘cactus’ flew into his lap. You wanna see a guy jump! We laughed about that one for years. But it was pretty harmless as pranks go.

      And thanks, I’m glad you like the new covers! 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Now that is some serious pranksterdom. That is a word right? oh nasty, nasty when the sheep were involved. well perhaps better then putting the actual sheep in the room. Hmmm, there’ something to think about. 🙂
    I love the cover!

    Liked by 1 person

    • I heard rumours of instances where the actual sheep was smuggled into the room, but I have no evidence that actually happened. (Then again, I have no evidence that it didn’t, either… and the guilty parties aren’t talking.) And thanks, I’m glad you liked the cover! 🙂

      Liked by 2 people

  3. Sounds like the kind of pranks we used to pull at Wossamotta U in Frostbite Falls.
    Seriously? Shaving cream was a staple of college pranks everywhere, but I’m sure glad I didn’t go to an agricultural school.

    Liked by 1 person

    • ‘Wossamotta U’ – bahahaha!!! Funny, I always thought that’s where the Godfather went to school, but imagine my chagrin when I looked it up just now and found out it was Rocky and Bullwinkle. Learn something new every day…

      And yes, U of M was a dangerous place to be. The Aggies alone would have been okay, but Aggies and engineers mix like oil and water… or no; like pure sodium and water. You don’t want to stand too close.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Oh, man. Sucked in by the title. Imagine my dismay when I found out the subject matter wasn’t what I expected. 😉

    Fortunately, I enjoyed reading about your pranks anyway! As for me, why I’ve never pranked anyone in my life! *innocent grin*

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Love the new cover

    I don’t remember pulling any pranks in uni, I lived in halls. I do however remember we had a murder mystery dinner party one sunday night and we decorated the floor with an underwater theme, psper fish and streemers all over the place, despite the fact it was my idea to have the party, outside my room was the only undecorated area, when the cleaner came in on the monday morning hitting the roof, and waking up most of the girls and making them clean it up, I slept peacefully.
    I also got away with it the following weekend when we did the same thing for a second murder mystery party.

    I was older than most of the girls and would make the cleaner a cup of coffee most days, so I could never do anything wrong

    Hugs karen xxx

    Cant wait for book 11

    today is gonna be great, I dont feel any older, mind not looked in the mirror yet, my birthday pressie to me

    Liked by 1 person

      • I totally agree. I gave our cleaner toast and coffee most days.
        I was the one who organised the murder mystery nights but we held them at other people’s rooms
        I was older then the other girls them being 18-19 I was 22, so I was seen as sensible giggles if only they really knew.
        well as the bus im on has found every bump in the road making typing fun (not)
        Have a great evening, im on my way to be fed by my parents and get my bookcase (which I have to build myself)

        Hugs to all
        karen xxx

        Liked by 2 people

  6. A prank pulled on a buddy back in the dark ages involved one of those “cool coil” ventilated seat cushions. A long 1″ coil of thin spring wire was looped back and forth and covered with an open-weave mesh for upholstery. One sat on those things to get some air between you and the plastic seat covers in your non-airconditioned pickup truck.

    The prank was that the owner of the service station my buddy frequented hooked a wire from a spark plug boot to the coil spring in the cover. He really did it right, hid the wire and everything. Totally invisible, ran it under the rubber floor mats and behind the seat. When my buddy hit the starter, the high voltage juice from the coil LIT HIM UP!!

    Every time he would try to turn off the key or pull the door handle, he would get hit even harder. It took much longer for him to escape his truck than one might think because it hurt too bad to touch anything to make it stop.

    That just escalated their prank war. Me? I always bought my gas elsewhere.

    Make the shaving cream in the envelope thing worse. Mix a cup of sand in before you stomp it. The grit sticks to everything and gets everywhere.

    Hey, I warned them not to involve me in their juvenile silliness. Like Jack Reacher always says, “Get your revenge in first.” And like my dad always said. “Anything worth doing is worth overdoing.” Words to live by. 🙂

    Like

  7. Oh jeez, the Type A, kind-of neatfreak in me is cringing just thinking about it. In fact, my first thought after reading about the exploding shaving cream in the dorm room (or worse–crap!) was, “Imagine having to clean that up.”

    Now, in terms of the crepe full of whipped cream, I just might be able to handle that explosion. As long as I got to eat most of it. 🙂

    Great cover!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks, Carrie! Yes, I was very glad to have never been on the receiving end of that particular prank. Then again, it couldn’t have been much worse than the time I juiced apples in my kitchen before I knew I should rig a plastic blast shield over the juicer hopper (you can’t really jam the push-stick in fast enough to block the apple explosion). I’m pretty sure I still have apple fragments in my stucco ceiling even five years later…

      Liked by 1 person

  8. Sounded like fun. Except the sheep shit part. I avoided residence at U of S. It was cheaper to live on your own and no distractions that you didn’t initiate yourself.. I have an article written for the Sask Ag Grads Assoc newsletter about my first year on campus but if it doesn’t get published, I will blog it. I’ll see your sheep shit and raise it a truck load of pig shit.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Yikes! Too rich for my blood – I fold. Nothing worse than pig shit (well, okay, maybe chickenshit). I lived in Taché for three years but found an apartment for my fourth when I needed a bit more focus to complete my thesis. And despite the laughter and good memories, I’m pretty sure residence is where I developed my almost-pathological need to always be aware of my surroundings. With pranksters like that, wariness was a necessary survival skill.

      Liked by 1 person

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