About a decade ago, living in Las Vegas, I became friends with a couple that was originally from the same area of the world, western Pennsylvania. We became close friends even though he was a relentless ball buster. After a few years, he was hired into a job which gave him a company car. As such, he wanted to sell his personal car which was a Ford Focus. He hated that car and was happy to rid himself of its ownership.
One day, he drove past a section of open land near a major thoroughfare. There were several cars & pickups parked there with for sale signs in their windows. He unwisely decided to park his car there, thinking that he'd sell it much faster. He posted a couple of signs and took off for a week long business trip, confident he'd have offers soon.
When he returned, the car was gone. He assumed it had been stolen, but no....it had been towed. He contacted the towing company and was told with the towing fees and impound costs, he would have to pay over $400 to get his car back. He was furious. His wife was even more pissed, but at his poor decision.
That night, three of us were having a guys night out and headed to a locals pub. He showed up to our place with a roll of cash explaining that he needed to go get his car from this towing company first. It was located on the extreme outskirts of the city, butting up directly against miles of open desert. If you can imagine it, this is the kind of joint you'd expect gangsters to use in body disposal, dark, quiet, no eyes for miles, and surrounded by a high chain link fence topped with barbed wire.
Nearing the driveway, I noticed the front gate was wide open & his car was parked very close to the exit. I asked him "Do you have your key?".
"Yes," he said, pulling it from his pocket.
I told him, somewhat jokingly that he should just sneak in and steal his own car back. To my surprise, he agreed. However, the white shirt he wore just wasn't going to do for a covert mission of this type. He swapped shirts with my brother. Now understand, my friend was a college linebacker, thick and with a heavy build. My brother clocks in at about 175. Our buddy had to squeeze into this black tshirt. It looked ridiculous, like a teenage girl's midriff shirt. Still, once the wardrobe change was completed and we had driven a bit further down the road....he crept off into the dark, to steal his own property.
Meanwhile, my brother and I drove to a nearby fast food restaurant at the closest intersection. We waited for what seemed forever. I started imagining crazy happenings. Did he get caught? Was he being arrested or held at gunpoint? Was there something even worse afoot, like the pawn shop scene in Pulp Fiction? Time crept by until we saw a little, red Ford Focus scream down the road in the dark with no headlights on.
We took off after him as my brother called him so we could rendezvous. He got lost in the getaway car but we eventually met up, returned the car to his home, & went out for the night. He was ecstatic. He'd had a bit of a thrill, saved hundreds of dollars, and gotten away scott free...or so he thought.
After a few days had passed, I spent an entire Saturday writing up a fake citation from the Pennsylvania State Police. Since the car was registered in PA, and we were 2300 miles away, I thought it'd be a better choice. I didn't want him walking into a local station with my forged document. I even spent a few bucks on software that could mimic a watermark to make the printing looking like official letterhead. Full of legal sounding jargon and terms like "Section 6, Article 2, USC Title 16 Misappropriation of a Vehicle", total fines and administrative fees totaled just under $7,000....more than the car was worth.
My brother and I went to the post office, put a certified sticker on the envelope, tore a return receipt of the back so the tabs remained, and stuffed it into his mailbox.
A week passed...nothing. Not a word. We were sure the gig was up and he'd not fallen for our ruse. The next Sunday we all met up at a bar to watch a football game. We'd forgotten about our joke until he announced he was being fined by the state police. He pulled my fake citation from his pocket and began reading my words back to us. His wife meanwhile, stood over his shoulder fuming more with every added fee he voiced. We, of course, acted shocked. We'd been so sure he'd gotten away with it, after all.
After a few words from us, stating our regret & trying to console him, he informed us that they had purchased airline tickets to return to Pennsylvania in a couple days. His father had set an appointment with an attorney to fight the charges & fines. He asked if we would be able to take them to the airport. Well, of course we could! It was the least we could do.
When we dropped him off at the airport and sent them off to fight their legal battle, I waited the appropriate amount of time to ensure he'd be in the air & wrote him a text message explaining our deceit. When he landed in PA and met up with his father, he explained that he'd been duped and that a friend was getting him back for games he'd played.
His father's advice:
I don't know who this guy is or what you did to deserve this. Take him out to dinner, tell him he won & don't piss him off anymore. It was a nice steak dinner. We still laugh about it to this day. His wife took a few years to warm up to it before she saw the humor.
I like owls....
Goodluck everyone!
I spit coffee on my keyboard