Ahh.... Mid June 1995. I remember it well. Good times.
I spent a week getting drunk every night and putting food in a friend's neighbor's mailbox.
It started as a joke. One day we accidentally burnt some pizza rolls, but we didn't want to throw away food, so we decided "We'll just give them to the neighbors... but they're probably sleeping. Let's just 'mail' them to them." The next day we were remembering that night and decided to make sandwiches or something. Ended up making an extra sandwich and put it in their mailbox, as an apology for giving them burnt pizza rolls. Then the next night we decided a sandwich isn't good enough. We made scrambled eggs, toast with jelly, and some bacon. We put that on a paper plate with a red solo cup full of orange juice in their mailbox because we thought they deserved a good breakfast.
Then we made an ice cream sundae for them the next night. I mean all out, we even went to the store for the cherries. We had chocolate syrup, whipped cream, sprinkles, all the good stuff. Even left them a spoon to eat it with.
Well... The next day I'm at work and I check my voicemail during my break. It was some police officer saying that he's leaving me a voicemail because he needs to talk to me, now. So I call him back and he starts questioning me about the trauma and hardship I had been putting this family through. Apparently after the 3rd or 4th night they installed a camera pointing at their mailbox and caught us with the ice cream. So I told the officer I was sorry, but he didn't sound mad. He just sounded... confused. He kept asking, "But... why? Why on earth would you do that? I mean, they didn't make it sound like you vandalized anything or hurt anything. But... did you really make an ice cream sundae? What on earth for?"
I confessed to the whole thing. The breakfast, the sandwich, the ice cream. The officer wanted to know if I had harmful intentions, and when he realized that I was just acting out situational comedy on a whole new level that he'd never dreamed of he told me he would try and convince them to not press charges as long as I promised to give the Loch Ness monster about tree fiddy by the next morning. It was at this time that I realized the police officer was over 500 feet tall and wearing a kilt. I said "Goddamnit Loch Ness monster! I'm sick and tired if your folly!"
But anyway, I got away with it.