
Okay, this place has been too damn serious lately. It's time to lighten things up.
So, I want you to tell me about some kind of mischief you engaged in while at church OR on an ecclesiastical function. Retreats, camp-outs, and LDS missions can all count.
Keep it fun and don't be jerks to one another.
I'll go first.
--------------------
I was volunteering as a Junior High/High School counselor for the local fall church retreat (attending a Presbyterian church at the time). This was when I was still single.
There was a male counselor there whom I didn't get along with very well. When I say I didn't get along with him very well, I mean that we really didn't like each other, not that there was sexual tension between us and we pretended to fight because it was the next best thing to giving into our impulses. We just didn't like each other.
We did some kind of game one afternoon with the teens that involved a runny Washington state mud slide. I can't remember what it was I said or did that set the other counselor off. Maybe that was the time I sent one of my teens with a pocket knife to destroy the other team's supply of water balloons. I dunno. I cheated at youth games too much to keep track.
So the other counselor was irritated with me about something, and he decided to exact revenge in the form of grabbing me by the arms and dragging me down the mudslide, which muddied my jeans, t-shirt, and jacket pretty badly. He thought he was being hilarious.
Alas, I don't have man-strength. I have puny ladies' arms, and I can't grab someone and forcefully drag them somewhere against their will. It's not my gift.
But . . . I had this:

Washington state banana slugs, Ariolimax columbianus. Second-largest species of slug in the world, maxing out at just shy of 10 inches. The wilderness surrounding this retreat was crawling with them.
Later that afternoon, I saw that the counselor in question was napping in the foyers of one of the buildings. So I went outside, snatched up the largest slug I could find, and planted it right on his sleeping face.
Then I ran like hell.
It wasn't long before I heard a yell of surprise from behind me.
I told my husband this story, and when I got to the "ran like hell" part, he replied, "You didn't want to stick around and watch him wake up with the slug on his face?"
I said, "No. He still had all that man-strength. I didn't really want to see what he was going to do to me with it the second time."