Fun in the dark

An ever expanding (number - not waist size) group of us used to meet regularly in the village pub. A good bunch of guys all intent on having a bit of fun in life as well as a few beers. As friendships grew, so did the opportunity to take part in some practical jokes: George was the first victim. He should never have told us his holiday plans. He used to live way out in the country and at the end of an unlit path at the foot of the hills. A great house and garden, and the perfect place to sabotage his return from holiday. We knew that he would be returning after dark, and that there were no street lights. We reckoned that as he got out of the taxi, the interior light would ruin any 'night vision' he had and he would be almost blind walking up to the front door. We on the other hand would arrived much earlier and be safely ensconsed in his front garden, hidden from view, as our eyes became accustomed to the dark. The plan was set and all that remained was to get there, hide our cars and wait. True to our plans, the taxi duly arrived and the interior light came on. George got out and started walking towards the front door, dragging his suitcase behind him as he fumbled for his house key. Meantime the taxi turned and dissapeared into the shaddows. Seconds later, there was a shout of 'Bastards!!!' as he arrived at the door. Huge burst of laughter ensued from the garden as we all made ourselves known. What we had done, was to go up there earlier in the day and use concrete blocks to 'brick-up' his front door. Priceless shennanigans.