You’ve Been Served
10 years ago, a friend of mine prank called me several times in my office over the course of a day. I decided in that moment that 1) this would not stand and 2) rather than entering into a long, protracted quagmire of a prank battle, I would use the nuclear option and end it immediately.
My friend, “Mike,” was a well-known local bartender (I worked at the same bar as a bouncer) and he was very much enjoying single life at the time, facts that I knew I could take advantage of. Soon a plan began to form: I would have him served with a fake paternity suit while he was working at the bar.
So, I compiled a ton of free online court documents—not just for the “paternity suit” but also income disclosure forms, statements of parental rights, and suggested visitation schedules pending “demonstrable proof of sobriety.”
I filled out all the forms, then smeared what looked like date-received stamps as proof they had been filed and ran copies to make those stamps even more illegible. From there, I crafted a backstory to be included in a cover letter from the fictional mother’s fake firm on letterhead and all.
The mother was an Irish exchange student visiting the area the previous summer. She had only been with Mike so she knew the baby (“Eliza”) was his. The cover letter encouraged Mike to call during regular office hours to discuss arranging a DNA test to affirm paternity.
I set up a generic voicemail for the number listed as the office on the letterhead. By the end, the paperwork was somewhere between 20-25 pages. I enlisted another friend not known by Mike to serve the documents and instructed him to do so around 10 pm on a Saturday evening.
I told him to keep the interaction very simple. I wasn’t able to be by the back bar because I knew I would be laughing too hard, but based on eyewitness reports it played out like this: FRIEND: Are you Mike [last name]? MIKE: Yes
FRIEND: Michael [middle name, last name]? MIKE: Yes FRIEND: [drops folder on bar] MIKE: What’s that? FRIEND: Paternity suit. You’ve been served [turns around and immediately walks out of the bar] MIKE: Yeah, that sounds about right.
Mike read through the packet, shakily poured himself several drinks, and then ran over to the bar owner (who was aware of the prank), to ask what to do. He also called the number on the letterhead but sadly did not leave a voicemail.
After a solid 10 minutes of intense psychological revenge, the owner finally told Mike he should closely read the last page of the packet. On it, in size 2 font, it read: “Go screw yourself, Mike.” At which point, Mike ran to the front door and punched me in the chest. And there was a cherry on top.
Several months later, Mike was on a trip across the country. He had left his car at home with his mom, who generously had it washed for him. Mike for some reason kept the paternity suit paperwork in his driver’s side door.
During the course of the car wash, his mother found it and read the entire thing, then called him sobbing in the middle of the night asking why he hadn’t told her about her illegitimate Irish granddaughter.