Ahhh some of the stories remind me of my Navy days when we would mess the the FNG's.
We would almost always send one scurrying around the ship with supply requisitions for "2 gallons of sailboat fuel" or "powersource for the sound-powered phones". One of the best however was when we'd send some poor b*std down to the boatswain's locker to get us a "boatswains punch" He would inevitably come back rubbing his arm and complaining about the bruise that was developing. (the Boatwains mate was about 6'4" and 240lbs, and could bench press twice his own weight)
We would also send the new corpsmen (medics) searching around for "2 yards of sterile fallopian tube", often around the base to every supply department. We'd call ahead to let them know they were coming, and they'd tell him they only had the 4 yard type, and send him off to the next supply depot. All the supply departments were in on it, and by that afternoon, the FNG would show back up empty handed, and very redfaced, 'cause the last person who helped him was this screaming hot chick that worked in one of the airwings, and was "one of the guys". She would stand back, part her legs a bit, and grab her crotch and tell them "the only fallopian tube in this shop is in here, and your not man enough to go searching for it!"
The other one we'd pull: Upon exiting the Navy (discharge from service), everyone had to get a physical. Anyone over the age of 40 had to get a rectal exam. The Doc always put his left hand on the patients left shoulder, and would insert a finger on his right hand in his rectum. The Doc and I would conspire, and right after he inserted his finger in the poor bastards rear-end, I would sneak up quietly and put a hand on his right shoulder. You can imagine the response.
I'll try and remember more of our mean spirited tricks.
Erik
