The Art of Dirty Tricks and Sabotage

[Jian Bastille]

We would sometimes call it 'cut-throat,' sometimes 'King of the Hill,' but let's face it, we thought, sabotage it was, 'Sabotage' it should be.

At the time, I knew Gio for about two decades, and the Library of Congress itself could not contain the blackmail we had on each other, the thick of it in our respective cortexes for quick filing, and easy recall, if necessary.

We never settled on who started it, we never settled on a winner, nor did we ever settle on so much as 'neutral ground' or when and where was taboo.

While not an everyday thing, every week, or even every month, the ever-going game of 'Sabotage' could find one a victim at any moment, or an opportunity at any unlikely turn.

-

Waitress Bait

We were both party to this dirty trick, and the further spaced out the usage was, the better, for maximum effect.

Best used in a diner-booth-like situation, this one was not only quite effective, but, when applied, opened up a series of smaller, pettier warfare.

On opposite sides of the table, when dining out, and the day seemed right, we'd engage in an everyday, unsuspecting chat. If luck would have it for the perpetrator, our waitress would be pretty hot, and the games would begin.

What one would do, is be already in the middle of a discussion, the perpetrator already speaking, when noting the approaching waitress from behind the intended victim, towards the table.

The sentence being spoken would suddenly be delivered into the very eyes and attention of the victim, the incoming waitress in off-focus vision, and, just as the girl was within earshot, the conversation would suddenly change, much to the victim's demise.

Here's an example :

"...I agree, I mean, if we consolidate our workdays, and work fast, why, we can have three or more days off a week! Tell you what, let's schedule this Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday to work, and then, you know what? It's not the end of the world; granted, there's no cure for Herpes, but keep putting on the cream the doctor gave you and... oh, hello! We're ready to order!"

By the time the victim looks up and sees the waitress that just 'walked in' on the coversation, it's too late. You've been Sabotaged.

From that moment, it would not be wise to leave your food behind, for instance. You would check your drink for pepper or salt thrown in by the other, just to find out that sipping the straw filled with ketchup is something you didn't think of. Perhaps you'd come back to find a mound of pepper or mayo between your pancakes. Regardless, it would be clear who won the day with the first strike.

-

Ring of Fire

So called for our WAV recording of an intentionally badly-sung refrain from Johnny Cash's 'Ring of Fire.'

The first victim was his girlfriend, that everyone but he hated, 'Vanessa.'

When I say she was addicted to AIM, I mean she'd chat non-stop for 12 hours or more, every single day, much to Gio's (again, her boyfriend’s) aggravation.

At the time, she would do this on her NEC laptop, 33MHz of hardcore computing power on her 350MB hard drive. The thing about this model was that it didn't have external mute/volume controls, and she didn't know enough about computers to change the software controls.

So, we loaded that WAV file on her computer, and configured AOL/AIM to launch that sound-clip when she pressed SEND… When someone sent her a message... When someone signed on... When someone signed off... you get the point. Also, might I add we turned up the volume to as high as it would go.

We laughed from the other room, a wall and closed door between us and her, as well as a TV playing loudly in the front room, with us.

The clip would restart over and over, as per her hitting all of the triggers setting it off. Long minutes went by. Still, she chatted contemptuously.

"I fell in to the burning ring of fire-I fell in to the burn-I fell in-I fell in-I fell in to the burn..." and so on.

Then, an hour went by, then two.

This girl had a serious f****** problem.

We ended the affair by setting her desktop as a screen shot of her desktop, and setting the mouse controls to 'left/right click reversed.' We told her AOL was a virus, and it broke her laptop, and we had to sell it for scrap.

Eventually, she recovered her addiction, after taking to free-internet libraries for a short spell found her exhausted for her fix.

We kept the file on CD and pranked others, similarly, our tell-tale voices instantly claiming both guilt and victory.

-

The Love Zoo and Dirty History

Gio loved getting ready to go out, and I mean two-hour, every-hair in place shower/preparation combos despite any urgency or sense of forward-running time. Movie? Bar Closing? Concert? Court Appearance? Chronos himself be damned, that Italian would seem to say.

Needless to say, it left me with a lot of free time, time I felt better spent engaging in Sabotage to make up for the hours I lost.

One was LOVE ZOO.

Once he would 'jump in the shower,' I'd boot his computer, load up Photoshop and an internet browser, and get to work. Once the work was done, I'd burn it to CD if time was running short, if not, I'd install it : The LOVE ZOO theme.

I'd then turn off the computer, leaving the surprise for when he'd turn it back on.

Usually, a day or so later, I'd get hammered with phone calls from his number, and I'd not answer, laughing my ass off.

He'd be greeted by a desktop with a photoshop of hot porno girl with a Boa Constrictor around her, and a smiling monkey clutching her leg. His icons would all be little animals. His sound-scheme would be monkeys yelling, lions roaring, parrots calling.

That is, unless his girlfriend booted his computer before he did.

Because of this prank, I also came up with Operation Studpuppy.

Again, during his inevitable long showering, I would google, and therefore visit every hardcore leather-daddy site I could find, bookmarking the lot, and keeping it in his internet history. I would also sign him up for free snail-mailed hardcore gay periodicals, leather daddy literature, Bear Magazine freebies, and such, all to his address, but under a similar pseudonym. His name was Giovanni, so I'd use something like 'John Smith-Palermo.' Then, I'd delete his shortcut to the internet browser, something he didn't know how to fix.

"What? Okay, Gio, I'll come see what's up, and fix it soon."

I'd wait until his girlfriend or another buddy was around, and 'fix' it in front of him, quickly, and then leave the computer. Either he or his girlfriend would get on it, then, eventually find the bookmarks or history auto-complete 'suggestions' in search bars, which confused him greatly.

"Would... would a virus do this?"
"Do what?"
"Uh, change your bookmarks, and..."
"Lemme see."
"No! No! No! How do you erase this stuff?"
"Well, let me show you..."
"No!"
"Whoa, what the-"
"It's a VIRUS!"
"Viruses don't do that, man, look, it's okay, I mean..."

After an hour or two of shock, embarrassment and confusion, he knew he was Sabotaged.

Inevitably, the magazines would arrive weeks later.

-

hotMALE

Another quick, fun joke was to wait until the other was drunk, and slip napkins with fake phone numbers from people like 'Hank aka Betsy,' 'Meathook Alice,' 'Lower Bayou Transvestite Support Group,' and such, scrawled in a hurried hand… in his wallet, jacket pocket, even glove-compartment of his car. Again, a time-bomb joke.

-

You damn dirty APES!

Once, when I was out of the country for a while, my mother called him, to see if he'd heard from me. He told her that I met, and was dating, a famous actress in France who played 'Dr. Zaius' from Planet of the Apes (you and I know it was a male character and actor, my mother didn’t,) TV show... making this 'actress' old enough to be my mother.

Nothing was said for months, until my mother brought it up.

It was then I knew the trap had sprung.

-

Strippers and War Heroes

It would be unavoidable for either of us to have a new girlfriend without the other meeting with, double-dating, or hanging out with the other.

Of course, knowing this was prime targeting for Sabotage, we'd be on 'Elevated Alert' the entire time, often holding our bladders to not leave our dates unattended, and making grabbing bar rounds an olympic affair.

After many a minor time-bomb tactic, Gio, I admit, landed a doozy.

Apparently, he held on to a string of myth until he had a chance to use it, who knew how long he waited, and who knew in which scant seconds alone with a then-new-girlfriend he delivered the lines, but such effective seeds is what Sabotage was all about.

Months later, my then-girlfriend told me how proud she was of me for being so nice, and so 'in control' with her at all times, given my 'past.'

Apparently, my mother was a beautiful red-headed stripper in her day, and my father a Vietnam war hero, who came home with shell-shock, would wake me up in the middle of the night screaming 'INCOMING!!!' and leave money on the bedstand every morning for my mother, apparently a post-dream-confusion about him still being in Vietnam with a common hooker. As a result, I supposedly was a screwed-up kid who would still wake up in cold sweats, thinking my dad was running around sleepwalking in cammos, that I still thought it customary to leave money for girls on my bedstand in the morning, because my dad did it, and that if I had a fight with my girlfriends, I would turn to the first asian hooker I'd see for solace.

He got me again.

-

Random Jabs

If I would meet him for dinner, I'd come late, surely after the phone call I made to the restaurant that it was his birthday, coming-out party, or for the waitstaff of please speak slowly and loudly to him, because he was going deaf, but too proud to admit it.

If he pulled a 'good one' on me, I'd secretly shake up all of his sodas in his fridge, and put them back. On rare occasion, I'd put Tabasco in his two-liters.

I sent him a penis-cake for his birthday, one year.

I put random blank CDs in his truck CD-wallet, scrawled in Sharpie : “Barry Manilow Compliation,” "Oz (gay bar) Party Mix," "Studpuppies Men's Chorus," and "Mating Sounds of the Caribou."

I would put talcum powder/baking soda/whatever on a napkin, and say 'You got something on your face... no, there... no, THERE... lemme get it,' and dab the bottom of his nose, so he'd walk around with a powdery white ring around his nostril for hours. This was effective especially once we left the house, and was going out to a bar, club, or nice restaurant.

At some clubs, when the ladies' line and the men's line for the bathroom were close, I'd chat with him, standing in line behind him. He'd go in, and the moment he'd leave, I'd go in for just a moment, and come out with a sour-face, saying 'Jesus Christ, what the f*** did he do in there?!?!' Consequently, some ladies in that line would see us later, across from the bar, and giggle. I'd tell him they were flirting with him, and encourage him to talk to them, which left him confused ?for the night, only I knew why.

-

All in all, these events would be months apart, always sprung in surprise, and playfully vicious. Never permanent damage, nothing irreversible.

The truth is, though I was the perpetrator in most, he did get the best Masterstrokes, so it all evened out in the end.

R.I.P. Dear Gio.