By Jerry Zezima
Whenever I pull a prank, which generally involves my grandchildren, whose maturity level is way above mine, I think outside the box.
This is a wise strategy because I can’t fit inside the box. And even if I could, the air supply to my brain would be cut off and I’d be even more immature, which admittedly would make me a better prankster.
Still, I proved to be a pretty good one when I pulled a birthday prank on my wife, Sue, with a box I didn’t have to think outside of. That’s because I got inspiration from the best prankster I have ever known: my longtime buddy Tim Lovelette.
Sue, Tim and I were members of the notorious class of 1975 at Saint Michael’s College in Vermont, where our shenanigans were even crazier than those in the 1978 frat-house comedy “National Lampoon’s Animal House.” Maybe we should sue for theft of intellectual property.
Anyway, while Sue was an innocent bystander and I engaged in silly but mostly harmless pursuits that seldom involved actual schoolwork, Tim set the standard because his pranks not only were pulled on a daily basis, but sometimes involved live snakes.
When Sue and I recently met up with Tim and his wife, Jane, whom we hadn’t seen in a long time, Tim excitedly told me about Prank-O, a company specializing in gift boxes for products that don’t exist.
That’s why, like my head, the boxes are empty.
“It’s American ingenuity at its finest,” Tim assured me. “You have to look into this.”
I called Prank-O, which is headquartered in Minnesota, though not in a big-box store, and spoke with head honcho Ryan Walther.
“I thought I had it made because I’m paid to write stuff that has no redeeming social value,” I told him. “But you pull pranks for a living. It sounds like a dream job.”
“That’s why I do what I do,” said Ryan, who was one of the original partners in The Onion, the satirical news outlet that lives up to its name by making readers cry with laughter. “It has served me well in life.”
His life as a prankster began as a kid, when he discovered the brilliance of the Pet Rock, a collectible toy made in 1975 by advertising executive Gary Dahl, who put small rocks inside cardboard boxes with air holes (for breathing, of course) and sold more than a million of them.
“That guy was one of my heroes,” said Ryan, who went on to co-found Prank-O in 2009, when he and his business partner, Arik Nordby, fulfilled their dream of injecting laughter into the solemn ritual of gift-giving.
Now 50, with a wife and four kids who are “bewildered” at what he does and parents who are “proud that their son is an empty-box baron,” Ryan has grown up (sort of) to run a company (pranko.com) whose amazing products include the Squirrel Hot Tub, the Noggin Net and the Dream Griddle.
There’s also Roto Wipe (“Say goodbye to costly toilet-paper costs!”) and the Pasta Recycler (“Make used pasta almost like new again!”).
“These products don’t actually exist?” I asked.
“That’s right. We sell empty boxes for $8.99 each,” said Ryan, who went on “Shark Tank” in 2018 and got businessman and show judge Mark Cuban to offer $640,000 for a share in the company, although the deal fell through.
“But you did prank him,” I pointed out.
“Yes. The world needs laughter and we’re here to help,” said Ryan, adding that gift-givers can put real gifts in the empty boxes.
One of his favorites is the Pasta Recycler, which I got for Sue as a birthday present.
“What’s this?” she wondered after she unwrapped the box, which I filled with uncooked spaghetti because her real gift, a raincoat (isn’t it romantic?), wouldn’t fit.
“My gift to you,” I cooed. “Happy birthday!”
“Is this a prank?” Sue asked.
“Yes!” I answered proudly.
“Here’s another one,” she said. “We’re having pasta for dinner. And you can make it.”
Copyright 2024 by Jerry Zezima
