You do something to someone. They have to get revenge. Then you go after them again, to pay back the payback. And the cycle repeats until the original offense if long forgotten. A description of Palestinian/Israeli relations? Well, yes, but that's not what we're talking about in this case. We're discussing giant hamster cages.
A practical joker got a taste of revenge when friends turned part of his apartment into a human-sized hamster cage, complete with shredded newspaper bedding, a six-foot exercise wheel and a giant water bottle.
"It was a lot of work, but it was one of those cases where you do it because you have to," said Keith Jewell, a longtime friend and neighbor who engineered Monday's hamster-cage prank on Luke Trerice.
Trerice, 28, had it coming: In 2004, he enlisted others to help him encase another friend's apartment and most of his belongings in aluminum foil.
The victim of that prank, Chris Kirk, spent nearly two years cleaning up the meticulous coating of foil, which was wrapped around everything from his toilet and CD collection to the individual coins in his spare change.
A giant ball of foil still sits in the basement of Kirk's former apartment building.
Reminds me of the time in college when we turned the RA's room into a horse stall. Straw on the floor, hay bales, various pieces of tack and assorted farm implements - no horse though, we couldn't get one up the stairwell. He was picking hay out of odd places for months afterward. Not that I had anything to do with the prank. Nope, not me.
Eight people put in more than 100 hours assembling the room, and supplies cost about $300.
Jewell, 26, a theater set designer and computer networker, came up with the concept and got a machinist's help in building the giant hamster wheel from metal pipes.
Jewell said he suffered some injuries when testing the ring. "If you spin upside down, you're not gripping the bars with your feet. So of course I went head first on the concrete," he said.
The group worked through the night before Trerice's arrival, shredding newspaper, blowing up a beach ball, installing the water bottle in a window and filling a metal feed bucket with Cheetos. There wasn't time to finish a few details, such as lining the walls with wire fencing.
Trerice has started cleaning up, but trips to the recycling bin still haven't made much of a dent in the two-foot pool of paper shreds on the floor.
The wheel, however, has proven popular and will become a permanent fixture in the room, Trerice said. After all, it took four people to bend it into an oval shape that would fit up the stairwell and through the door.
Trerice also said he's going to start saving now for his own revenge plans.
"They claim they did this on (Kirk's) behalf. If they think that's going to mitigate any of the revenge that's coming, well that's even funnier than the wheel," he said.
And so the cycle of revenge continues unabated.