𝐍𝐎 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 ━━ 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐳𝐳𝐨

TWENTY THREE | prank war

"Mayonnaise instead of vanilla pudding. You got me there, Eva."

Upon entrance into the bullpen, I grin pridefully at Ziva and McGee. Of course, the two share looks of confusion.

"Tony and I've decided to partake in a little pranking competition for Halloween." I explain to them. "I'm in the lead: plastic wrap on the toilet and mayonnaise in the pudding cup."

He comes rushing in through the elevator doors. "I almost got you with the alarm clock."

"And who ended up waking up at 3:00 A.M.?"

". . .it's not my fault the clock was right by my ear."

Gibbs walks to announce the arrival of a new case before tossing the keys at our newest N.C.I.S. agent. . .Ziva David.

"Korby lived for Mischief Night. He was the king of practical jokes." One of the teens to have found the victim mourns.

"I guess that makes you the princes of pranks?" Tony mocks lightly.

The second boy stutters nervously. "Are-Are we in trouble?"

"Not at all. Unless you killed him."

"The guy was awesome. Came up with new practical jokes every Halloween." He shrugs his shoulders. "Nothing dangerous. I mean, no razor blades. He'd freeze all kinds of stuff, blow things up. It was funny."

"And illegal."

A petite, middle-aged man dressed in a Mister Rogers-esque cardigan, though his mannerisms are nothing like the beloved showrunner.

"And who are you?"

"Ted Rogers. Live across the street." He gestures to the house behind him. "First he drove us crazy with his pranks. Now he dies in the driveway."

Tony narrows his eyes. "Well, it sounds like you've got a problem in your neighborhood, Mr. Rogers. That's a nice sweater, by the way."

I hide my smirk well in realization of just how alike we think.

"Um, boys, we're gonna need the footage from the camera."

"Yes, you can use it to document what these punks did last night."

"We're only interested in what happened to Lance Corporal Korby, thank you."

After retrieving the tape from the teenagers, Tony and I venture into the garage for any pieces of evidence. But it's filled to the brim with Halloween decor and pranking materials.

"Must be Korby's Joke Lab." Tony pokes the tops of my hips, eliciting a yelp. "And possibly our crime scene."

I glance back at him with squinted eyes. "Don't steal on prank ideas, Tony. I know how desperate you are seeing as I'm in the lead."

"There are signs of a struggle."

"How do you know that?"

He squats down in front of a knocked over desktop, the screen absolutely shattered and rendered useless.

"Because pranksters don't break their own stuff."

Back at headquarters, Tony's convinced Korby's wife had something to do with his death, although a blaring piece of evidence — Korby's wife and step-daughter checking into a hotel three days prior — says otherwise.

"We're still scrubbing the video from the kids, boss." McGee greets him upon arrival.

"Multiple neighbors have filed complaints against Korby." Ziva states. "But only one neighbor has filed multiple complaints."