Prank Goes Wrong Episode 3 Novels & Stories

My team was the only one in the company that hit its performance targets this year. At the year-end party, the boss waited until everyone else had left, then he pulled out a big red box and had the four of us in my team draw blind boxes. I drew a desktop tower caked in dust, an antique that looked like it belonged in a museum. Haley Lambert, my teammate, drew a monitor covered edge to edge in scratches. Drew Sandler got a keyboard with every letter worn clean off the keys. Gabe Carell ended up with a grease-slicked wired mouse. Our boss, Cyrus Griffin, clapped me on the shoulder, grinning drunkenly. "You young people love a blind box, right? It's all about that thrill of not knowing!

"Some of us want to go home for dinner tonight." "Sorry, Jay." I shook my head, clearing my thoughts yet again as the scene was slated. Pris was in her bra and underwear. I was supposed to pick her up, slam her against the wall, then try to seduce her, and then bail. Ha. They do say that the truth is stranger than fiction. What are the odds that they'd changed my schedule again, and I had to film this scene right after my issue with Dani? With a deep breath, I focused on pushing away every thought of last night, keeping only one.

Revenge Gone Wrong The house was so noisy. Marco was throwing a party. Everywhere they were women clad in bikinis and some even topless everywhere and some men she had not seen before. The women looked prettier and sexier than she was. When she came down in her own bikini, Marco had embarrassed in front of them all making it seem like she was a child and sent her upstairs. She had been so hurt at the way he spoke to her. He was not really different from Ricardo. They always had an issue with her.

I was too afraid to get too close. Then, a voice I recognized drifted over—it was Quentin's buddy, Felix Jefferson. "The Grant women were a piece of cake to fool, huh?" he taunted. "I thought we'd get some pushback, but everything went down smoothly. But then again, you nailed the acting. I bet Winnie still thinks you're just some regular office worker who saved up forever for those three cruise tickets!" Felix cracked up. His words made me dig my nails into my palms. The pain felt like a sharp stab to my heart. Then I heard Quentin's voice.

Ishu gasped as she saw Sanky behind them who heard everything. "Is this your other prank? If you say that Shagun dhi didn't attend your phone call, even a small kid won't believe it. And here you want me to fall for your trap?" Sanky asked with a smirk. He is not that naive Sanky who would often fall for their fight pranks back then. It's their old tactic. Sanky smiled and left the place taking his bag. "No one would believe that Shagun can cut my call" Ishu smiled bitterly.

"Who in the world are you, and what is this car accident about?" I asked, pulling on the handbrake with all my might. Still shaken, I stared at the crash site not far away, my back drenched in cold sweat. Someone with a voice identical to mine spoke through the phone. "Do not doubt me. I am you from three years in the future. That's why I know about all these." However, this felt absurd to me. I was convinced it was a tech-savvy voice-phishing scammer who was manipulating my voice.

“And then.” “The princess proposed him, let him live with her, fed him, used his t shirts, made him drink coffee and then kicked him out. After a few days, she met him again, Started wearing his t-shirts again… spilled some coffee on this prince’s white shirt.” At that, Abigail pinched the side of his abs. “Ouch. What was that for?” Instead of replying to his query, she asked, “And then?” “Prince was standing there with a coffee stained white shirt. Staring at the princess's beautiful face. Not aware of his surroundings. Bewitched by her charm.” He rubbed his cheek against her head. “And instead of complaining about it, he did the smartest thing.”

The voice of a lady resonates through the earpiece. "I got a message from this number." "I'm sorry, you got the wrong person." The lady says and hangs up immediately without any further word from us both. The minutes stretch into an agonizing wait, each passing second laden with anticipation. Finally, a reply appears on the screen, unraveling the tension. "Just kidding! It's a prank," it reads. "A prank? Is this a joke?" Relief washes over me, and Luciano offers a reassuring smile. "See? Just someone with too much time on their hands," he says, attempting to ease the residual tension.

They dropped it exactly where I told them—front and center—then plugged in an extra-long extension cord to the plaza's backup outlet. Whirrrrrr— The whole bed started shaking, full-on suggestive rhythm. You could hear it a block away. People froze, then drifted closer. "Is this... performance art?" "Dude, that bed looks sketchy." "Who even does this in public?" While the whispers spread, I pulled out a Bluetooth speaker and hit play. "Hey everyone," I said, loud and clear. "My husband Daxton Pruitt says he's heartbroken. And he's right—I left him. Because I got tired of watching him and his side chick get freaky on this bed."

“What's it going to be?” Marilyn slowly turned to look at him. A smug smile spread across his face. “If you say yes, the money is yours tonight.” For a brief moment, Marilyn smiled too. The sight seemed to encourage him. Then she spoke. “Go fuck yourself.” The smile vanished from Simon's face instantly. Marilyn had never felt more satisfied. “You know,” she continued calmly, “I almost convinced myself that maybe you had changed.” Simon frowned. “But I can see now that you're still the same pathetic idiot you were in college.”