Rhonda's School of Dance

One of the best pranks I've pulled in my life was Rhonda's School of Dance. It was a couple years ago when I was working in "the closet" (a long, narrow room at work with no windows) with Ambrosia and Logan. Every day, a guy named Jimbo would pass our closet and say hello. He was the gregarious sort, and he worked in data entry in a closet a few doors down. Our editing department had absolutely nothing to do with data entry, so we didn't really know Jimbo and his coworkers but one day we decided to form a "closet alliance" between our closet and theirs. We met all of them and started sending emails back and forth a little introducing ourselves. We even brought them stale, 90%-off treats from a nearby BYU Creamery.

One day, I realized that I could get access to their data entry telephone number and we could actually call them. So at about 10:00 one morning, Logan called from his cell phone.

Data entry: Hello, this is Jimbo at Independent Study. How can I help you?

Logan: Yeah, I'm calling about the Rhonda's School of Dance radio contest? The answer is plie. Am I the seventh caller?

Data entry: I'm sorry... this isn't a radio station, this is Independent Study. I'm afraid you've got the wrong number.

Logan: Oh geez. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

He got off the phone and I immediately called from my phone.

Data Entry: Hi, this is Jen at Independent Study. How can I help you?

Cicada (in a hyper, high-strung voice): Yes, hello! The answer is plie! Am I the seventh caller?

Data Entry: I'm sorry... this is Independent Study. You have the wrong number.

Cicada: But---but---but, this is the number they gave out on the radio! [I repeated the phone number.]

Data Entry: Right, that's our phone number, but the phone number is for Independent Study, not a radio station.

Cicada: But they gave this number out on the station!

Data Entry: I'm sorry.

Cicada: So does this mean I don't win?

Later that day, Jimbo swung by our closet. He said, "Hey... you guys... have you been receiving, like, weird phone calls today?"

We said we hadn't, and he explained.

"Apparently some radio call-in show gave out OUR number by accident, so people have been calling in for some dance studio thing. And this one girl---we thought she was going to cry. She just kept on repeating over and over again, 'But this is the number they said on the radio!'"

Of course, we were all laughing uncontrollably, but Jimbo thought that it was just his impression of the pathetic girl who was calling in.

At 10:00 a.m. for the next few days, we'd call in our answers to Rhonda's School of Dance. When we realized that we also had access to their printer through the network and started printing logos and pictures of ballerinas and stuff, they finally got wise and figured out that it was their new, intelligent editor friends.