Direct from the bustling social hub of Penrith, comes Veri Similitude, your resident journalist- reporting the
important issues. You know, the ones that affect you, your family and your current alive status. Veri Similitude brings you: An Important Affair!
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Angel, a 37 year old broomstick maker from Penrith, has a horrible story to tell.
“I just wanted to ‘ave a laugh,” he sobs to me. His eyes are broken with sadness and his mouth quavers with the words, each one as difficult as the next. His hands tremble. “I just wanted to do a shit on her breakfast- I didn’t know she had an intense fear of faeces! How could I know she would go and off herself with the broom I made for her birthday? It was the most poetic tragedy, and I watched Romeo and Juliet once. Well, not once, I watched the bit where they dance with those odd angel wings. But even so! Why the broomstick? Why, Cheltenhama!”
This is an everyday problem which is occurring everywhere you choose to look. Every 6 seconds, someone will die because of a prank which went wrong. It’s a prank epidemic, Brighton Le Sands from the institution of epic prankdom, tells me over an informal frappe. “April fool’s day is the worst day of the year. It’s no longer suicides- people are dying of pranks which go wrong! The traditional cyanide in your celebratory wedding toast is becoming quite popular, which is sickening. Also, the poisonous coconut in the underpants we are seeing a lot of. I just don’t know how to stop this madness- we’re getting someone in at least every minute to have their autopsy conclude they were killed by a prank gone awry. And what about the people who don’t come in!? Its mind boggling.”
When did this epidemic begin?
Some say it was the old crucification of Jesus prank (why complain? It gave us a public holiday) and others believe it was the day that the lawn grew 1cm, giving it hope of a family and future, before the lawnmower cruelly killed it with its epic moving blades of doom. All we know, is something set the wheels moving in this chariot of disaster.
“I’d never seen the plastic wrap over the toilet seat prank before. I thought it would have been a harmless bit of fun!” Karen stated, seeming on the brink of tears. “I guess I wrapped the seat too tightly!” Kathy’s husband came home from a late shift at work on April the first. Desperate for a slash, John waddled to the bathroom and attempted to urinate into the plastic-covered toilet. John’s urine rebounded off the wrap and directly into an open wound on his forearm. The startled John retracted in horror, slashing all over the floor, causing his feet to lose traction. He hit his hand against a precariously placed statue of Frodo, and died.
How do we stop these pranks from devastating our society, our wellbeing, our morality, our SOULS? We can’t. However we do have a few simple tips to protect your working family and its digital revolution from the skeletal hands of well intended pranks of death.
First, we recommend you invest in gills for your family. This way, you can move to the ocean and live in a grotto like the little mermaid. Life is more interesting as a Disney movie, and will keep you far from society and its PRANKS OF DEATH. Also, fish do not know how to prank people. Not even turtles will be able to cause hurt in your family with a prank.
If you do not have the money to invest in gills and replace your oxygenated respiratory system, you may try the second option. Buy a bunker, pre war if possible. Stock up on tuna, water and rugs and live there for the rest of your lives. You’re not a peeping tom if it’s a relative, and besides, no society is going to judge the passion you feel towards your son and the desire to have dirty sexual relations with him. Who knows, your husband might even accept it? Join in? Its bunker town and you’re the president. Create your own rules and STAY AWAY FROM PRANKS OF DEATH!
If you cannot invest in a bunker, it’s more than likely you’re unemployed or a baby, which is why I suggest the third option: becoming a troll. It’s easy, cheap and quick- just move from your house, grow a beard, (Yes Mildred, this means you) and find a bridge to sit under. The great thing about being a treacherous troll is that nobody wants to touch you or even converse with you (let's be honest here, when was the last time you spoke to a troll?) This will thoroughly reduce your chances of being killed by a prank gone awry! Also, the money you earned from selling your ancient washing machine and hairdryer can go towards your war paint, further used to repel pranksters.
If you feel you cannot get gills, a bunker, or commit to a life of trollitude, you are more than likely an unbeliever.
Trust us.
One day it will happen.
You will die from a prank gone awry.
Every 6 seconds...
