Satisfaction

There are few things as satisfying as watching your efforts slowly pick apart someone’s sanity. Not in a vindictive way, of course, more along the lines of an ongoing practical joke. I’m currently exacting my elegant plan upon an unsuspecting soul who had the misfortune of allowing me to find out he was raised in Canada. Now he’s receiving a slow build-up of maple syrup themed/flavored items, culminating in a bottle of maple syrup being left on his desk tomorrow. He doesn’t know who’s doing it, just that something maple syrup related and a note saying “Eh” show up every few days. And after the bottle is dropped off, the items will stop showing up, leaving him forever in the dark as to who the maple syrup fairy was.

Is it odd that we only do these types of things to people we like?

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