This thread is for you to reveal the best ,worst ,most dangerous, annoying or hilarious pranks.....they should be from the workshop but they could be from anywhere.....
......when I worked in the bike workshop my favorite prank was when someone else had something dismantled going over to the spare "nuts n bolts" box and finding something that belonged on the bike they were working on.......the best and easiest to find was a self tapper when someone had the fairing apart on a Hyosung( bastard POS's)....then when they weren't looking just popping it in with the rest of 'em .....you could see that shrug of the shoulders when after twenty minutes of staring , sometimes taking it off again looking underneath, scratching their head they'd kind of look around and then just put the self-tapper in their toolkit and carry on.....
....and no, I'd never tell.
...few understand what I'm trying to do , but they vastly outnumber those who understand why..
One that comes to mind,'a worst one,played on myself'
Out in the shed (about the same size as Dr G's),nearly 30 years ago,(that's when i got my 1st '39 Chevy Coupe),we are trying to fire the 283,got beer cans EVERYWHERE!Gotta drink beer when building a Hotrod!
Put petrol in beer can to pour down carb's(twin wcfb carters on '57 corvette intake),pick up wrong can,big swig,spit all over engine,WRONG CAN!!
Another one ,when i did my time as a civil eng in NZ,we had numerous office party's.We had an aussie in the office (Rick Mckay).One such office shindig,Rick decides we should bet on what colour undies the girls are wearing!We all pick a colour,he runs up and "Up goes the skirt".Winner takes all.
It got to be Nell Bakkers turn (Trivia,Nell lived next door to the Finn's -SplitEnz,Tim&Niel Finn).So all bets are on,(Black,White,red, etc),Rick does his thing,NO UNDIES! No one collects,but can still remember the view!!
Cheers , Bob.
cleaning up and decided not to throw out a roll of ht wire. runit throught the fire wall under the carpet of my fairlane bare back the insulation a couple of feet and under the pasenger seat cover.when your ready to go appologize lift the bonnet plug into dizzy take one last look at passenger smile and hit the key.wammo/
1./...eighteen year old smart-alec moto-cross whizz, workshop pest( much loved, useful , but at the top of everyones "strangle" list) flicks Big Red ( 6 foot 2 red hair and beard,110kilos) on the arse with a huge lacka band while he's lying underneath a big quad bike , he smashes his head of course. Motocross then runs off into the single cubicle toilet and locks the door.Big Red gets out from under the quad, he's not happy, actually he's redder than normal. Jogs toward the toilet, says "grab your airline" to Mad Serb the guy at the bench next to him and on his way picks up a canister of ground pepper from the kitchenette. Big Red tips a couple of teaspoons of pepper onto the floor at the base of the toilet door and Mad Serb blows it under the door with his air-duster, then they just casually walk back toward their benches. It takes about 10 seconds and the door is ripped open .....Motocross dashes out gasping , his face is bright red and his eyes are poking out of his head, then he starts sneezing. He continued sneezing all day, everytime he did we all laughed.
2./In my last job our rosters were photocopied off a transparency, I was standing next to our teamleader when she accidently copied one back to front. She put it on the bench where I schnavelled it. Now, these rosters were a little hard to read on a good day.....When the teamleader went around and put them in everyone's pigeon holes I popped over and took out Gails and replaced it with the backwards one....Gail is long-sighted and struggles reading fine print...move it a little further away, adjust the glasses, bit closer , tilt the head back, move it a little further away, squint,...look around , screw up the face , stare at it , sigh....then I burst out laughing....just as she said "this is F****G BACKWARDS isn't it James!!!...........and she was normally so lady like.....
...few understand what I'm trying to do , but they vastly outnumber those who understand why..
One that comes to mind.In the pannel shop walking with a rag in rear pocket it has prepwash and thinners on it .Someone walks up behind and puts a match to it and you think gee its getten hot,then i look over me sholder with 4ft flames up my back.i just s??t myself:shock: my self,& all in the shop are having a grand old laugh. One other. Get a youngster to mix some matalic paint & tell them not to stop till the black lines are gone.Works evry time
STAN.#744
Our body cells renew themselves while we sleep
If only our wallets would do the same.....
Working in an engine shop once with a panel shop next door.
We had a bit of a competition with blowing up acyetlene bombs. We used the smallest orange juice bottles and they'd go of pretty well and eveyone would laugh.
The apprentice next door was'nt very smart and decided if small juice bombs were good then 2 litre milk cartons would be better.
The explosion in the panel shop rocked our building. We ran out the back to see the panel shop guys come staggering out of the bog dust haze holding there heads.
The bog dust billowed out for about 15 mins and the appretii went home crook
We used to do a lot of oxy welding in my maintenance shop at Leyland in the late 70's. (First one to bag P76's gets a smack in the head!) Anyway, our Pommy labourer would always sneak up behind whoever was welding and drop an empty steel tote pan on the concrete floor right behind them. We all used to jump a mile till we got used to it. Even after we were ready and waiting for it and would barely flinch you could still see in the weld path when he had dropped the pan.
It's a shame they never got to make the P77!It was bound to be much better than the P75, and the model after that! (Can't smack me,Ha Ha,I didn't say P7 1/2 dozen)
They werent as bad as some people think.the engine/gearbox fitted into my mates MGB Roadster(with a BIT of help),but doing burnouts stripped the splines in rear wheels (they were knockoff's),ended up putting the 4 banger back in after the expensive wheel & hub repairs.
One thing we know now David,You have explained why some of the welding on those cars is s#!^!!
Cheers , Bob.
C Hanlon wrote:Working in an engine shop once with a panel shop next door. We had a bit of a competition with blowing up acyetlene bombs. We used the smallest orange juice bottles and they'd go of pretty well and eveyone would laugh. The apprentice next door was'nt very smart and decided if small juice bombs were good then 2 litre milk cartons would be better.
The explosion in the panel shop rocked our building. We ran out the back to see the panel shop guys come staggering out of the bog dust haze holding there heads. The bog dust billowed out for about 15 mins and the appretii went home crook
I was about six maybe less I had a couple of boxes of cap gun caps , I folded a few up and put them on the anvil and hit 'em with a hammer, that was loud . I worked my way up to a whole roll....that was really loud.....not being one to waste time on endurance testing I thought "what the hell" and stood a whole box( must have been five or six rolls) on end and whacked it with the mash hammer.
It didn't knock me out but the hammer did hit me in the forehead.
...few understand what I'm trying to do , but they vastly outnumber those who understand why..
That reminds me Dr.G
I was about 8 or 9 & my sisters hair dryer blew up
so myself & my brother (6 or 7) cut the plug off striped the wire
back & wired it up to a speaker (to see what it sounded like) pluged it in, hit the switch ''BANG'' & a big bright light like a lightning flash .Gee did we get in the sh_t for that.
STAN.#744
Our body cells renew themselves while we sleep
If only our wallets would do the same.....
I guess if we're going to confess to dumb stunts.. When I was about 10 or 11 we lived in Ceduna SA, the Nullabor was dirt and it was a fairly spread out joint.
For reasons long since forgotten, 4 of us were at a mate's farm when he decides we should do something with one of his old man's 12 gauge shells that he's pinched and had hidden for ages.
We worked out that the pipe handle of the tennis court roller held the shell quite nicely thankyou very much and if you removed said shell, one could aim by siting through the handle at whatever object was deemed suitable. Being flat land there wasn't much so someone volunteered to go out into the paddock and hold up a sheet of corrugated iron which he did. The roller was dutifuly lined up, a nail held o the cap with a pair of pliers and we wacked it with a hammer. I can still hear the pellets hitting the tin to this day and can only imagine it was a #4 or #7 shell, thank god it was nothing heavier. Apparently he got a right flogging when his old man came home that night, the rest of us fled upon hearing his mothers screams. I never heard any more about it so can only guess he took one for the team.
It still scares me when I think of it now.
As for work pranks, I started in a workshop with 23 other guys, pranks were a daily occurence. An oil soaked rag lit then stomped back to smouldering, slipped beneath the bell housing of anything with the bonnet up and a head in the engine bay always brought great results.
On a stinking hot day when we decided we'd had enough and needed a drink we'd fire up a ride on mower and fill on oil can with brake fluid. Big rev on the ride on then a squrt of brake fluid down the throat. It only took around 10 repeats to clear the whole workshop while the smoke dissipated.
We had a huge pit that accomodated three bogie trucks at a time, you'd gee up someone working on a truck and the'd get a third person to jump in, start it and give it a few res while they supposedly tied to sort something or other out. While this was beginning I'd slip into the pit with a hammer, spanner or anything else that came to hand. After a few small revs the accomplice would ask them to "give it a big one" whereupon you start hammering on the sump in time with the rpm whilst the accomplice looked shocked and worried. It was great and many a white face climbed from the truck thinking they'd have something to explain to the foreman.
I worked weekends at a wrecking yard and every Saturday morning, one of the partners would turn up with the paper, go into the dunny and stay there for an hour. We got there early one morning, drilled two holes into the seat, one for each cheek, and added some pop rivets suitable blacked out to be hard to see. From these we ran speaker wire out through the wall and into the workshop. One went into #1 plug lead on the HR and the other was for earth. We let him settle in for a while, fired the HR, gave it red line and earthed the second wire. That was about the funniest toilet exit I've ever seen.
At that same workshop we had an old spark plug testing machine. It must have hailed from a time when they were hard to buy because at a buck each who would be bothered to try to hang onto old junk plugs? Our foreman was one of those old duffers who would never throw away anything so we had to play along and sandblast melted and/or oily old plugs until they were past useless. We would screw them it a threaded hole, hook them up to a HT lead and peer through the fuzzy glass to see them happily arcing for as long as we held the power button down. Anyway we had a junior storeman who was very, shall we say, naive (stupid would be unkind). We had him convinced that spark plugs had their own internal power because we would wire the HT lead to the body of the unit and put a spark plug on top of it. Every time he went to pick it up we would turn on the power and he'd get zapped. After that he wouldn't ever pick up a spark plug from anywhere.
Just as an aside, the P76 was initially very bad but the last of them, the Targa Florio model, had all the problems solved. But by then it was too late and we were closed down. Apparently the car sold really well in Aotearoa because there it was pronounced P seventy sex and farmers could fit a small flock of sheep in the boot! Seriously though, the real problem started many years before that when Leyland appointed stylists who loved ugly cars and engineers who were not encouraged to design things to be as simple as possible and reliable. The Volkswagen ethos was "parts designed out cost nothing and never fail in service". That's why Leyland is long gone and the companies that sold beautiful cars that were reliable and easy to fix are still in business.
I was working in a panel shop at Parramatta in the 70's and there was a pom there who wet rubbed using laquer thinner. We had told him not to, but he persisted. One day I put my hand in the bucket and it had thinners in it, so i took it outside and poured it into a drum there. There was other stuff in the drum but I ignored that. About an hour later the boss told him to burn the rubbish. He lit the match and the contents went skywards, while he protected his head with his hands. He didn't see the funny side, but he did learn to use water to wet rub.
(to see what it sounded like) 
& a big bright light like a lightning flash 
.Gee did we get in the sh_t for that.