The Class Clown’s Guide to Outrageous Pranks and Tasteless Jokes

        I don’t like to brag. But I will say this: I’ve never peed on anyone.

        Admittedly, that’s a dubious, perhaps even meaningless distinction in an era when urolagnia (sexual excitement associated with urine) has leaked into the mainstream. It even has its own playful-sounding euphemisms: golden showers, water sports, or the earthier piss play. These days, it’s just another kink—a sexual preference. Some do it, some don’t. No judgment.

        Which brings us, in a roundabout way, to the story of a high school buddy who did pee on people—specifically, his classmates. In the locker room.

        Important context: This wasn’t consensual piss play. Far from it. He did it as a joke and was brazenly indifferent to whether his targets were willing participants—which they clearly were not. But the urinator didn’t care. He sprayed his victims at will, usually without consequence.

         Naturally, you have questions. First of all, who is this weirdo? For simplicity’s sake, I’ll call him “Bugs.” Not his real name, obviously—but it fits. I’m thinking of Bugs Bunny, the classic Warner Bros. trickster introduced in pre-movie cartoons during the 1950s and ’60s. Bugs was a wise guy, the one who always had the last laugh—usually at someone else’s expense. His adversaries included Elmer Fudd, Yosemite Sam, Marvin the Martian, and the Tasmanian Devil, all of whom suffered through his relentless pranks.

        Of course, Bugs Bunny never peed on anyone—at least not literally. The Bugs of my high school years, however, was, in his own way, something of a genius. Don’t believe me? Ask yourself: How does someone even manage to pee on another person without being noticed? You’d think that by the time Bugs squared up and pulled out his pecker, most people would have had the good sense to get out of the way. And yet, bizarrely, they often didn’t.
 

       The secret? Bugs peed on people while they were showering.

        Like most public high schools, ours had gender-segregated locker rooms and showers. Rumor had it the girls’ locker room offered privacy stalls. The boys’, by contrast, was a full-blown free-for-all. We strutted around nude, blithely indifferent to our own—and each other’s—naughty bits. Add to this scene a near-total lack of adult supervision, and you had the perfect storm for Bugs’ mischief.

        The boys’ shower featured three showerheads, which meant students stood about a foot apart—plenty close for Bugs’ purposes. The punchline came when the victim turned toward Bugs and suddenly realized what was happening. The onlookers—those not in the splash zone—would laugh nervously, relieved it wasn’t them.

        Now for the more unsettling question: Why did we, Bugs’ classmates, tolerate such behavior?

        The answer is complicated, but it boils down to this: Bugs had a long-established—and well-earned—reputation as the class clown. He didn’t just dabble in mischief; he made it an art form. His pranks were relentless and eventually legendary. So, although no one wanted to be peed on, most of us wrote it off as just another outrageous stunt from a guy who specialized in outrageous stunts.

        Indeed, Bugs spent a lifetime honing his craft. I met him in grade school, and even back then, he had already established himself as the premier wiseass. His early tricks were crude—thumbtacks on chairs, cherry bombs in the toilets, shrapnel under teachers’ tires. As he got older, the stunts became more elaborate: pies to the face, exaggerated impressions of classmates, absurd monologues delivered with comedic flair.

        Though students were his primary targets, teachers weren’t immune. Especially substitute teachers who were here one day, gone the next. With no accountability, many students ditch a substitute teacher’s class. Bugs did the opposite—he sluffed other classes to crash those taught by substitutes.

        One sub, a Mr. Butler, became a particular obsession after rumors circulated that he was a little unhinged and prone to high-pitched outbursts. That was all the invitation Bugs needed.

        One afternoon, Bugs and his henchmen strolled into Butler’s psychology class—not as enrolled students, mind you, but as agents of chaos. Instead of sitting down, they wandered around the classroom, whispering and snickering. Butler tried to ignore them, soldiering through his lesson.

        Eventually, Bugs raised his hand and asked to go to the restroom.
        

        “No one leaves the room!” Butler barked.

        “I don’t think I like you,” Bugs replied coolly. “I’m leaving.”

        “Fine!” Butler shrieked. “Then leave!”

        And so he did.

        With decorum restored, Butler resumed teaching. But moments later, everyone jumped at a pounding at the door.

        “This is the FBI,” announced a deep, muffled voice. “We know you’re in there, Butler. Come out with your hands up!”

        Then—snickers. Footsteps retreating down the hall.

        At first, Butler stood frozen. Then he exploded, sprinting to the door with a banshee wail, flinging it open in rage. Too late. The hallway was empty. Bugs had struck again.
 
       Another classic Bugs routine involved prank phone calls. This was pre–caller ID, pre–cell phone, so Bugs could call female classmates anonymously, flirt absurdly, and hang up while the rest of us howled with laughter in the background.

        Was it mean? Maybe. But Bugs’ delivery was so absurdly theatrical that most girls knew it was some kind of prank, even if they didn’t always get the joke or figure out who was behind it.

        “You’re going to prom with him?” Bugs would say, in full character. “Wow. I’m embarrassed. I shoulda known you were already going. If I’d asked first, would you have said yes? No? Why not? I’ve got muscles. Don’t you like when I flex my muscles at you?”

        And on it went. When you were in on the prank, Bugs was hysterical. When you weren’t—or worse, when you were the butt of it—you tried to laugh along and not take it personally, even though it was personal. Bugs was a gifted observer. He noticed everything: how you dressed, the music you liked, your crushes, your quirks. And he used it all for material. Anything for a laugh.

        Before I wrap this up, one final question deserves attention. While Bugs’ antics were tolerated, they were never accepted as normal—especially the peeing. Even in today’s more kink-friendly world, golden showers are strictly a matter of consensual play. Peeing on someone against their will? Still a hard no.

        Also, those who do engage in that kind of thing tend to do it in private, and within a sexual context. Publicly peeing on a classmate in the locker room shower? Still not kosher.

        Which leads to the uncomfortable question: Was Bugs’ behavior sexual?

        At the time, none of us thought so. Not me, not our classmates. It was a joke. A weird one, sure—but a joke. The idea that Bugs might have been turned on by it never crossed our minds.

        Still. With today’s more expansive understanding of human sexuality, isn’t it at least possible that there was a sexual component?
        
        Hold that thought.

        NEXT: Slings and Errors: Pee Humor Throughout History