Oh hey, is it close-to-murder thirty already? I love that half second of control your medula oblongata gets over the gears in your head when you're ready to go primeval on his ass. Warning: long, pointless story below:

At a wedding, post-reception and chilling with groomsfolk, a big tubby guy left me with his laptop, and explicit orders that I need to pay attention to it so that nobody took it. The uncle watching was like "so where are you hiding it then?" after TOB left so I hurried it under my seat. The guy came back with the groom like five minutes later and touched base on the laptop. I gave him my best ghost face I-dun-fucked-up look and he turned around and dashed to where it should have been (at the other end of a hallway), then came back red as a bull. His mood didn't improve when I told him I was joking, but he was restrained just enough to let the rage boil over then be cool with it. He and groom maintain that things were thisclose to being an incident involving me at the very least getting chased, at worst stitches.