After my glorious victory in Operation Pillow Swap, I expected Sara to admit defeat.
I underestimated her pettiness.
The very next morning, as I strolled into the kitchen for breakfast, feeling like a king, I realized something was wrong.
My chair—my special chair—was wet.
I stopped just before sitting, noticing the gleam of water on the seat.
Sara.
I turned my head slowly, and there she was, leaning against the counter with a smirk on her face.
"Good morning," she said, taking a bite of toast. "Something wrong?"
I narrowed my eyes. She wanted a prank war? Fine.
I had never lost a battle before, and I wasn't about to start now.
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Step 1: Assembling the Plan
I needed a counterattack—something that would remind her who she was dealing with.
So, I spent the next few hours brainstorming.
I considered classic pranks:
Salt in her tea? Too predictable.
Tape on the light switch? Too simple.
Hiding her phone? Too risky—if she found out, she'd destroy me.
I needed something legendary.
And then, inspiration struck.
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Step 2: The Prank of the Century
Sara loved her skin-care routine. Every night, she carefully applied her creams and serums, acting like a fancy rich person.
So, my plan was simple: replace her face cream with mayonnaise.
It was perfect—the texture was almost the same, and she'd never notice until it was too late.
That night, when everyone was busy watching TV, I snuck into her room.
I found her expensive face cream, scooped it out carefully, and replaced it with mayonnaise.
Then, I sealed it back perfectly and retreated to my room, waiting for the chaos to begin.
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Step 3: The Aftermath
I didn't have to wait long.
About 20 minutes later, I heard a scream from Sara's room.
"WHAT IS THIS?!"
I burst out laughing as she stormed out, her face shiny with mayonnaise.
"You—YOU DID THIS!" she yelled, pointing at me.
I wiped a tear from my eye. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You're DEAD," she growled.
And that's when she launched herself at me.
I ran for my life.
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Step 4: The Great Chase
I dodged through the living room, jumped over the couch, and sprinted into the kitchen, laughing the whole time.
Sara was right behind me, her face still covered in mayo.
"Auntie! Mom! Look what he did!" she whined.
Mom, sitting at the dining table, barely glanced up from her book. "Sort it out yourselves."
Sara glared at me. "You win this round."
I smirked. "I win every round."
But just as I was about to celebrate, she grabbed my own face cream.
"Let's see how YOU like ketchup on your face!" she said.
My eyes widened.
I bolted out of the room.
The war wasn't over yet.
It was just getting started.