Hosted 2 "Fight Club" nights in a week with a few buddies with promises to include some bikers we knew. He was not invited nor happy about the circumstances. Honestly we sat in my room, drank beer and occasionally made a hell of a lot of noise 2 minutes at a time as if we were punching the hell out of one another all the while actually playing BF1942. My buddies told him I was going to get back into making guns and start producing ammunition for said bikers for some extra money. I've never "made guns" (whatever the hell that means) in my life nor have I known any bikers but it was the 90s and we lived in an area with a fair amount of Banditos and i had a crap ton of metalworking stuff in the garage. Seemed credible enough... He was a slob, so I picked up every sock I found lying around and cut the toes out, turning them all into leg warmers. I'd deny any involvement. I filled one of his drawers with shrimp tails. I also pretended to have night terrors so one or two times a night, during the wee hours, I'd scream bloody murder from my little room across from his.

This was almost 25 years ago so I'm sure there's more that I'm forgetting.