I think I may have told this story once before on GAF, but here it is again.
My friends and I used to have this thing where we had an agreed upon "three-fold rule" where if you pranked someone or just generally did something unnecessarily fucked up to someone, they were ALLOWED to get you back with something three times as bad as whatever it was you did without any retribution. It was supposed to be a deterrent, but ultimately resulted in everyone pushing each other to see how ridiculous things could get.
Anyway, there was one time where one of my friends dumped a full gallon on milk on the roof of my '85 Jetta for no real reason and I decided to get him back for it. I was bored, I guess, because I never really gave a shit about that car. For my revenge, an accomplice and I rolled up on the guy walking to his house with a loosely closed tub of watery cottage cheese to chuck at him. Unfortunately, when I tried to throw it, my hand banged against the car window frame and I flubbed the throw and it landed in front of him in the grass without coming open. That should've been it, I fucked it up -- it was over. However, the guy picks up the tub, pops off the lid and wails it through my open window, it SLAMS against the dashboard and EXPLODES, staining the car seats, our clothing, everything, breaking the retribution part of the "rule".
So it started again. A few weeks later we went out to a local butchery and amassed a nice collection of meats, cow scraps and organs. In the middle of the night, we wrecked the guy's car with the stuff. I pounded a nice fistful of brains against his windshield, ground a heart into the grill, positioned various meats into exposed crevices, mounted a cow's skull to the roof and poured a pretty hefty bucket of blood all over everything to top it off.
The next morning the cops showed up to his door with complaints from the neighbors and forced him to hose it down. It had been sitting out in the morning sun for a few hours by then; the blood was dry, the meat was starting to rot and it was attracting bees and flies. The police came by again later that day to make him hose it down a second time because he'd not done a very good job with it the first time around, leaving blood on the hood and various meats unfound, and to collect available information on the perpetrators. Apparently the officers, who were generally humorless about the whole thing and rightfully disgusted, explained to him that a couple of his neighbors were honestly terrified and convinced he was mixed up in some fucked up Satanic cult and were threatening to move away. It took a good while for him to explain the situation.
